


Don’t Move, Don’t Speak, Don’t Feel No Pain

by Sparky_02



Series: Now I’m Here [1]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: 1970s, An AU of Sorts, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assault, Depression, Gen, Healing, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, ICU, Major injuries, Mother Hen Brian May, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Protective Roger Taylor, freddie has no voice, health scare, it will be happy at the end i promise, life altering injuries, more tags will be added, roger is guilty, sweet john deacon, the guys share a flat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2019-10-19 07:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17597330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparky_02/pseuds/Sparky_02
Summary: Freddie goes to a bar one night to blow off some steam.He isn’t home the next morning.The events leading up to this caused him to lose his precious voice.Unable to express himself, Freddie becomes a shell of his former self, no longer interested in...well, anything.How does he get himself back?





	1. Arguments and Agony

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all! First chapter yay!!! I’m not entirely sure how often i’ll be able to update because of school but I will update as often as possible! I will also eventually be posting this on Wattpad as well <3
> 
> So much angst is in this fic... sorry not sorry

You know what? We can get another bloody singer!” Roger shouted in Freddie’s face.

“Fine!” he spat back. He ran straight out the door of the flat, not even slowing down enough to close the door. Quickly realizing what he’s done, Roger ran into the hallway after Freddie.

“Wait! Freddie, where are you going?”

“What does it matter? You don’t need me anyway.” With that, he disappeared into the stairwell.

Knowing good and well that chasing him down wouldn’t do any good, Roger turned back into the flat. He gently shut the door behind him, not wanting to disturb the neighbors any more than he already has. Brian and John had been silently observing the whole ordeal, not wanting to intervene for fear of having something thrown at their heads. Roger stood still for a minute, running his hands through his blonde hair in an attempt to calm himself down. He paced around the living room and kept wandering over to the door as if contemplating running after Freddie. A million thoughts ran through his head as he stared at the door:

 _Why_ _did_ _we_ _fight_ _over_ _something_ _so_ _mundane?_

 _Should_ _I_ _have_ _ran_ _after_ _him?_

 _Should_ _I_ _have_ _apologized?_

 _What_ _if_ _something_ _happens_ _out_ _there?_

No way. Freddie’s a grown man who can fend for himself. He’s just going out to clear his head and will be back in an hour. No worries.

But something still nagged in the back of Roger’s mind

“I should have ran after him.” Roger finally sighed, “I could have convinced him to come back”

“Rog, he’ll be fine. Fred’s probably just at the bar to cool off” said John who has a knack for calming people’s nerves.

Roger simply nodded in response. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He just chalked it up to guilt from the intense argument and brushed it off.

They realized his feelings were true when Freddie hadn’t returned to the flat by morning.

 

* * *

 

Freddie stormed down the stairwell and into the street. It was cold and rainy, and he was clad in only a t-shirt and sweatpants. He was itching for a cigarette. Since he needed to calm down from his childish fight with Roger, Freddie decided his best plan of action is the bar. Luckily, it was only two blocks away and easily reached on foot.

He had never wanted to see that neon sign more.

Oddly enough, Freddie hated this bar, but he would go there out of desperation once in a while. It was hazy, stuffy, and dimly lit. As soon as he walked in, the familiar smell of sweat and alcohol flooded his brain. The main reason why Freddie hated this bar is stares. For some reason, it was a hotspot for drunks that liked Queen. The whole reason why Freddie would go to a bar is to hide from the world just for a moment, and yet the world still managed to find him.

When Freddie had ordered his first drink, he noticed two guys staring at him. It wasn’t the normal stares though. It was like they weren’t just staring from being fans, but from intentionally watching him. Something about the way they whispered unsettled him, but he quickly forgot about them with his first shot.

After his second round, Freddie realized that he needed to get back before the guys began to worry. So, despite being a little wobbly, he decided it was best to go home. As he walked down the alley beside the bar, he suddenly felt a breeze, no, a chill on the back of his neck.

By the time he heard the footsteps behind him, it was too late.

When Freddie turned his head just to be sure no one was there, a fist collided with his stomach. He doubled over as a wave of nausea and a coughing fit followed. Completely blindsided with the assault, Freddie was rendered defenseless when a second fist landed on his left cheekbone. He felt a cold hand harshly hold his head up by his hair, its owner standing behind him. Too dazed to fully process what was happening to him, Freddie couldn’t fight against his attackers. A second man came into view, smirking while he cleaned fresh blood off brass knuckles.

“Well, if it isn’t the the freak himself!”, he sneered evilly.

Freddie suddenly came to his senses. He attempted to free himself from the man restraining him, but instead he took a blow to the nose with a sickening crack. Freddie’s captor released his grip from his hair only to throw him onto the cold, harsh pavement.

“Stand up.”

Freddie refused.

He received a blow to the jaw instead.

Fuming with rage, the man grabbed Freddie by his shirt and pulled him up, slamming him against the brick wall behind him. The man’s eyes were wild and cold, pure evil coursing through his soul. His stare made Freddie tremble.

For the first time in his life, he was truly terrified.

A lump formed in his throat when he realized he’s trapped. These guys were much stronger than he is, and have him pinned against an unforgiving wall. Guilt floods him when he realizes what this will do to Roger...

He closes his eyes and expects another blow to the face. Instead, he feels the man thinking about how else he can hurt him.

Freddie uses this chance to apologize, something he didn’t do in his pride fueled fight with the drummer.

“I’m so sorry, Rog.”

“You wanna say that again?”

Freddie stared into the man’s eyes and stayed silent. He would not give in to this man despite his fear.

Freddie’s defiance further enraged the man.

He struck him in the throat with as much power he could muster.

Something in his throat cracked. It was suddenly hard to breathe. He wanted to scream. No, he _NEEDED_ to scream.

But no sound escaped his lips

The pain in his throat was enough for his knees to buckle. Suddenly, searing pain ripped through his temple. He had been punched again. He felt like he was stuck in molasses. His vision began to fade.

His last memory before blacking out was a foot colliding with his rib cage.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Roger was rudely awakened by Brian shaking his shoulders.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Roger barked when he was fully awake. He was about to make another sassy retort but hesitated when he saw the urgency in Brian’s eyes.

“Rog, something’s happened to Freddie. He didn’t come home last night.”

All remnants of tiredness was gone when they joined John in the living room. He was on the phone with someone.

“Thanks again. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Who was that?” Brian asked.

“Mary. ‘Said she hasn’t heard from him.”

There was a sudden haze of anxiety that washed over them. They all knew something had happened, but had no way of knowing what.

Suddenly, the phone rang again.

“Hello? Yes it is... oh Jesus... is he alright? O-Oh... yes, right away.”

John slowly pulled the phone away from his ear. He gently put it back on the receiver with trembling hands.

He was white as a sheet.

“Deaky, who was that?”, Roger asked with a shaky voice.

“I-It’s Fred. He was attacked last night.”

“Is he alright?”

“The man on the phone hesitated and said we need to come as soon as possible.”

Roger’s heart sank to his feet.

He was right.


	2. Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are driving to the hospital  
> They talk about the argument  
> Roger breaks down

Roger's heart felt like it was about to jump out of his chest.

A million thoughts ran through his head all at once:

_this can't be happening_

_this can't be happening_

_I should've ran after him_

_Why did we argue?_

_It's all your fault..._

He felt a whirlwind of pain but nothing at all. He saw red but his vision was clear. Tears stung the back of his eyes but nothing ran down his cheeks. He felt like he could explode but he couldn't.

He had to stay whole for Freddie, but he was shattered inside.

They were silent as they left the flat. There was just nothing to say. It was a melancholy sight: the three walked quickly outside where Roger's car was parked, brows furrowed and eyes lowered. When Roger started the car and began to drive, Brian finally spoke.

"Roger, I know it's a bad time, but we _have_ to talk about what happened last night."

"Fred got mugged by a drunk at a bar what else is there to say?"

"Not about the attack, Rog, I mean what happened before."

"O-Okay..."

Roger gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

"I do not believe that either of you were right or wrong, but I do believe that it was childish and unnecessary. If we want to be a successful band and keep our relationship we _cannot_ act like children! You broke two plates and a chair for what? I understand that you want you to sing this song because you're the one who wrote it, but you have to remember that sometimes sacrifices have to be made. And instead of being an adult about it, you scream in Freddie's face and force him to leave! Rog, you  _have_ to think about the consequences sometimes."

Beads of sweat form on his forehead.

Tears threaten to fall from his eyes.

"Roger, I have to agree with Brian on this. I think from now on, we shouldn't let things escalate to the point of one of us threatening to-"

John's word's disappeared into nonsense

Roger's wall broke

He felt all the pain he'd suppressed

He saw red

Tears flowed freely down his cheeks

He exploded

Slamming his fists into the steering wheel he screamed,

"DO YOU THINK I WANTED THIS?"

All that could be heard is the rumble of the engine and heavy breathing.

"Do you... do you think I _wanted_ to scream? Do you think I wanted to kick out my best friend? And now... now..."

He paused for a moment and shook his head. His red, tear stained eyes were full of fear.

"Now, I don't even know if he'll live long enough to hear me apologize."

Luckily, they pulled into the hospital before he was too distraught to drive. As soon as he pulled into a parking spot, he broke down even more. He fumbled around until he found the handle of the car door and it flew open. He climbed out, leaned against the side of the car and slid onto his knees. He wrapped his arms around his middle as sobs wracked his body. His chest tightened and he could no longer take a full breath.

"IT'S ALL M-M-MY FAULT!" he cried out. His voice was shaky and hoarse.

His friends got down on the cold pavement with him, holding him in a warm embrace. It broke their hearts to see their friend like this, but his next words would break them even more.

"I'm s-so scared."

"So are we, Rog."

Even John's voice was shaky.

They stayed there for a few minutes until Roger calmed down enough to breathe properly. He wiped his tearstained face to try to make himself a little more presentable. Brian helped him to his feet, despite still being a bit wobbly.

"Are you ready to go in?"

Despite the sudden anxiety building in his chest, he agreed.

Together, they marched into the unknown.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i promise freddie will be in the next one  
> kudos are greatly appreciated  
> comments are my lifeblood, so please let me know what you think!
> 
> keep yourselves alive people <3


	3. Hanging By a Thread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys are shocked by Freddie’s injuries  
> Freddie wakes up alone  
> Mrs. Bulsara is a sweet lady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey lovelies! glad to see you like my story enough to keep reading! anyway, i’ll try to update every day, but i might have to skip a day or two because of school:(  
> this chapter is angsty(shocker) and someone pukes so bit of a warning if stuff like that bothers you

After talking to the lady at the front desk,a nurse came and told them that a man came in the night before, brutally beaten. One of the nurses suspected him to be Freddie Mercury, simply going off his teeth. Since he hadn’t woken up yet, she decided it would be best to call his band members, just to see if this man truly is Freddie Mercury. As she led them to his room, she warned them that his injuries were quite traumatic and extensive, and won’t be sure how bad they truly are until he wakes up. Their hearts sunk when they realized they were in the ICU. Now, after being properly warned on the patient’s injuries, she opened the door and allowed the guys to see him.

Brian had to turn around

John’s knees buckled

Roger nearly threw up

It was a horrifying sight, especially when it’s your friend laying there. There were... tubes and wires and things that they didn’t know the name of. His throat was swollen and bruised. His right eye was swollen and black. His nose had a few stitches and turned at an angle. His cheekbones were bruised and cut. His jaw was swollen and had a deep bruise on the side. He wasn’t wearing a hospital gown but had bandages around his middle.

But the most shocking of all was the trach tube sticking out of his throat

Roger’s blood boiled at the idea of a human doing this to another 

If someone didn’t know him well, he would’ve been unrecognizable. But his friends knew him well, and this poor man was most definitely Freddie Mercury.

Turning to the nurse, Brian stuttered,

“It’s him.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s Freddie.”

“Oh. I’ll add that to his file then. Oh also, no more than three visitors, please. We try to keep the ICU as quiet as possible. Are there any relatives we can call?”

“Yes, his mum.”

She handed him a piece of paper that required the name and number of Freddie’s next of kin. The nurse said she would call her right away. Just as the nurse turned to leave, John spoke up.

“Can I have your name if we... need you for anything?”

“‘Name’s Julie. You guys need anything before I leave?”

“A couple extra chairs would be nice.”

“Alright. If you need anything, just go up to the desk and they’ll get it for you.”

They guys nodded in thanks, but Roger didn’t. When he saw Freddie, he just... shut down. He had been completely silent, just staring at nothing.

“Rog, you okay?” John asked quietly.

“I’m-“

_Not_ _fine_ , he wanted to say, but he couldn’t make his voice obey.

“I’m fine. I just... need a minute.”

He slowly walked over to the chair next to Freddie’s bed and sank down into it. He realized how tired he was- it’s amazing how much emotions can drain you. He wanted to just sit there and hide away from the world, but was quickly reminded of it when his eyes wandered back over to Freddie’s broken face. Roger suddenly felt nauseous again, but this time he had to leave the room. Roger jumped out of his chair and ran out, ignoring the calls from his friends behind him. He scanned the floor for the bathroom, and bolted for it when he found it. He pushed the door open and dove for the closest stall. Good think he was the only guy there, because no one wants to hear someone else tossing their cookies.

Brian and John chase Roger down to the bathroom and are greeted by someone having a coughing fit when they enter.

They discovered that person to be Roger

“You okay, Rog?” Brian asked as he gently pushed the stall door open.

“It’s just... his face... I couldn’t-“

“You’re alright, you’re alright,” Brian soothed when he sensed that Roger was on the edge of another breakdown.

“Let’s get you out of here, okay?”

“M’kay.”

Brian helped him to his feet, and made sure he was stable before they made their way back to Freddie’s room. He knew Roger was exhausted-both emotionally and physically-and he needed a little support. When they walked towards the room, Roger was clearly apprehensive towards going back there.

“We can sit here in the lobby instead. Freddie’s mum’s there anyway, and I thought it best to give her some space.”

They sat down in the lobby, which was conveniently right in front of Freddie’s room, so they could keep an eye on him. It was then Roger realized he didn’t see John anywhere.

“Where’s Deaky?”

“He went to get you some water, he figured you needed it.”

Just then, John came around the corner with three cups of water.

“Figured we could all use a little hydration.”

Roger thanked him with a nod. As they silently sat in the lobby, they noticed a doctor walk into Freddie’s room. They took this as their queue to rejoin their friend. John politely knocked on the door frame as they entered.

“Ah, you must be the band!” he said as he shook hands with the three.

“Hello, Mrs. Bulsara” Roger greeted.

“Hello dear” she responded sweetly. 

“Alright everyone, now that we’re all here we need to discuss some things. You three might want to sit down.”

Not a good sign

Roger and John sat down in the extra chairs and Brian awkwardly sat on the corner of Freddie’s bed.

“So, Freddie’s injuries are... extensive. The list so far is two fractured ribs, fractured voice box, fractured lower jaw, missing tooth, fractured nose, fractured cheekbone, and a concussion to top it all off. His fractured voice box is what I’m most worried about. Although we won’t know how bad it is until he wakes up, there is a possibility that his vocal cords are badly damaged. There is also a possibility that he will never breathe normally again. With him-“

“Will he live?” was Roger’s question. He didn’t care about what’s wrong with his friend; he just wants to know if he’ll still have his friend when this whole ordeal is over.

“His prognosis is guarded until he wakes up, which could be a few days.”

An ominous cloud loomed over the room. Brian looked back at his unconscious friend. Roger’s hands trembled.

“Anyway, when he wakes up we’ll need to be sure he doesn’t use his voice at all until he’s completely healed, which could take several months of rest and therapy. I understand that he’s a singer, but if he strains his voice while he’s healing, he could have scarring and permanent damage. Even with the best treatment, he could possibly never sing again.”

That last sentence resonated within the mind of every person in the room.

What would Freddie do without his voice?

The doctor went on to explain treatment options for him, including any surgeries he might need in the future. Eventually, all had been explained and the doctor left to resume his daily activities. 

“Freddie can’t lose his voice.” Mrs. Bulsara whispered with a shaky voice. As his mother, she knew him better than anyone.

So of course, she knew that Freddie wouldn’t know what to do without his voice.

They spent the next several hours chatting the time away, with Freddie’s sister dropping by to bring them lunch and dinner when the time came. Mary even came by, but she could only stay for a little while. She goodbye to Freddie with a sweet kiss on his brow.

And as the night drew on, a nurse came in at exactly 9:00.

“I’m sorry everyone, but visiting hours is over. You can come back to visit at 8:00 tomorrow morning. The front desk will call you if there are any changes during the night.”

No one wanted to leave him alone, but they had to say goodnight to Freddie. Mrs. Bulsara kissed his forehead and whispered something they couldn’t hear. They each said their goodnights, but Roger stayed a little longer. He squeezed Freddie’s limp hand and whispered,

“Hang in there, Fred. Just for me.”

Oh how he wanted Freddie to squeeze his hand back!

* * *

 

Freddie’s dream shifted. He had already forgotten what it was about. In this one his eyes were closed, but he could see bright lights above him. His hands and knees stung like he fell on concrete. He could hear odd beeps every few seconds, like a heartbeat. His teeth felt funny... like one was missing? And his throat... there was something in it.

What was he breathing through?

His eyes, well _eye_ flew open as pulled and clawed at the contraption in his throat. He thrashed but his chest burned so bad he realized moving would be too painful. Machines were beeping wildly around him. Suddenly, a person ran to him and quickly but gently worked on prying his hands off his neck.

“I need you to relax. Don’t touch your throat.” the nurse ordered calmly.

_I_ _want_ _this_ _bloody_ _thing_ _out_ _of_ _me!_ he thought as the nurse forced his hands away fro his throat.

His body relaxed as the nurse talked to him softly to stop him from clawing out his trach.

He tried to speak but he couldn’t get air through his mouth

“I’m so sorry honey but you can’t talk. Your throat was so bad the doctor had to give you a trach so you could breathe.”

_Well_ _what_ _can_ _I_ _do_?

“Here, use this.”

The nurse handed him a pencil and a pad of paper.

_Where’s_ _my_ _family_? was the first thing he wrote

_And_ _what_ _happened_?

“I’m sorry but it’s about two AM and visiting hours don’t start til eight. As for what happened, are you sure you don’t remember anything?”

He nodded yes. He has no clue how he got here. All he knows is that he fought with Roger and went to a bar to get drunk and-

It all came flooding back

He scribbled _Wait_ _I_ _do_ _remember_. _I_ _was_ _attacked_.

“That’s right, Mr. Mercur-“

He held up a finger to shush her.

_Freddie_

“Ok, Freddie, and you’ve been asleep for about a day. Do you want me to see if the front desk will call your family?”

_Call_ _my_ _band_

“Ok, Freddie. I’ll be right back.”

Fear suddenly took over him:

He didn’t want to be alone

He flew over and grabbed her hand, ignoring the protests of his aching chest.

“You don’t want to be left alone?”

He nodded yes.

“Ok, hold on let me get someone.”

She poked her head out of the door and asked someone something that Freddie couldn’t hear.

“Your band is being called now.”

He nodded a silent thank you.

He then wrote something down on the paper- a question to be exact.

_What happened to my throat?_

The nurse’s eyes drooped like she had bad news to tell.

“It’s a lot to take in, honey.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poor roger:(  
> poor freddie:(  
> poor everyone:(  
> more angst is to come but tomorrow we will have some lighter moments
> 
> keep yourselves alive <3


	4. Suffocation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The band reunites  
> Everyone’s happy  
> Then, something happens that no one would expect...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is much happier than the previous three chapters and I’ve added in a little surprise at the end.

John slept in the living room that night so he could answer the phone if the hospital called. Suddenly, ringing woke him from his dreams. As soon as it registered that the phone was ringing, he jumped from his spot on the couch and answered the phone as fast as possible.

“Hello?”

His heart was pounding in his chest. Who other than the hospital would be calling at two in the morning?

“Hello, this is Julie. I’m the nurse you met at the hospital.”

Oh no...

“Is Freddie okay?”

“He’s doing very well. He woke up a few minutes ago and is now out of the ICU. He was asking for his friends, so I figured I’d give you a call. I know it’s early, but he really needs support right now.”

John bubbled with excitement

_Freddie_ _woke_ _up!_

“Y-yes of course we’ll be there right away. Thank you so very much!” he stammered.

“You’re welcome! Goodbye!”

With her warm comment, John hung up.

“YES! FREDDIE’S OKAY!” John cheered joyfully. Hearing this commotion, Freddie’s cat, Oscar, ran up to John to investigate. John happily scooped up the cat. He chuckled,

“Did you hear that, Oscar? Freddie’s alright!”

“What’s going on?” a tired Roger asked when awakened by John’s excited cheers.

With a smile, John replied,

“Freddie’s okay, Rog! He woke up!”

“Are you joking?!?”

“The hospital just called! They said he’s awake and asking for us!”

Roger joyfully laughed with a big smile they hadn’t seen for a couple days. John set a squirmy Oscar back on the floor. Awakened by joyful yelling, Brian shuffled into the living room and questioned,

“What are you two grinning about?”

“FREDDIE WOKE UP!” they exclaimed in unison.

Brian smiled ear to ear, and they all laughed together. Without really knowing why, the three pulled each other into a warm embrace. Even Oscar came and rubbed his tail on their legs.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Freddie’s waiting for us!” Brian said, his smile never leaving his face.

Within the next couple minutes, they ran to Roger’s car and they sped towards the hospital. During the trip, the three were so excited they didn’t stop smiling the whole time. When they got to the hospital, the receptionist saw their silly grins and knew just who they were there for.

“Here to see Freddie?” she asked with a smile.

They were all too excited to speak!

“Well, I’ll take that as a yes. Julie will take you to his new room now.”

The nurse greeted them with a smile and led them to Freddie’s new room. It was on a different floor and had a much lighter feel to it. The ICU floor had a much more melancholy feel, but this floor reminded the three of new beginnings and healing.

The nurse stopped them right outside the door to explain something to them.

“Freddie might take a minute to respond because he’s talking with a pen and paper.”

“Can we see him now?” John questioned.

“Yes of course. Call if you need me.”

The sweet nurse opened the door and barely had any time before the three barreled through the door. She watched how Freddie lit up with delight when he saw his friend’s faces. She decided it was best to let the four have their own space.

The three all managed to sit somewhere on Freddie’s bed and give him a good hug, being wary of his ribs. He seemed to be doing very well: his good eye was bright and happy, and they knew the other one would be if it wasn’t still swollen.

_Look! I’m missing a tooth!_ he wrote and pulled  his lip over to show a gap where a tooth was. Luckily, it wasn’t one of his extra ones.

“I see...” Brian replied, internally questioning his new look. It was tough to see his friend so hurt, but it made him happy to see that his friend is still there. 

_How’s_ _Oscar?_

“He misses you. He wouldn’t stop yelling at the door.”

Freddie smiled as if to say _That’s_ _my_ _boy_

“How are you feeling?” Roger asked.

_Fantastic!_ _They_ _even_ _gave_ _me_ _drugs_

They all laughed at his comment

“Well, maybe they gave you a bit too much, Fred” John quipped.

_No_ _way!_

Even more laughter lofted through the room. They were so loud they could be heard on the whole floor. The rest of the morning consisted of lots of chatter and childish giggles. They only time they left Freddie’s room was to get breakfast, and even then they brought it back to his room so he wouldn’t be alone for too long.Freddie’s ever so sweet nurse cleared their plates for them. Then, they watched the sun rise from the large window in Freddie’s room that was much more spacious than his previous one.

Then, his doctor came in to tell them some good news

”It looks like your throat is a lot less swollen than it was yesterday, so you can get your trach removed today.”

Freddie silently cheered: it was probably the most annoying thing ever done to him.

After some papers were signed, Freddie was wheeled away into a quick, easy surgery. It broke their hearts to see Freddie taken away from them again, but they knew it was for the best.

Freddie was taken to a recovery room, where he woke up with his friends by his side. He recovered remarkably quick from the antisthesia, and was soon back into his old room. Once he’d slept off some of the antisthetic, he was awake enough to talk with his friends.

Once he had some coffee in him, Roger drove back to the flat to get some board games as the four quickly drew restless. When he returned, he let Freddie pick which one they played first. Of course, he picked Scrabble. They played a couple rounds of scrabble and it was great fun for all of them, but all the sudden activity took its toll on Freddie’s healing body. They asked if he wanted to play another round, but he silently told them no. He suddenly looked very tired, and his eyes told them he was hurting much more than he let on.

“You okay, Fred?” Roger asked gently.

He grabbed his pencil and paper and wrote a little slower than he usually did.

_I’m_ _actually_ _hurting_ _quite_ _a_ _bit_ _right_ _now._ _Could_ _you_ _call_ _a_ _nurse?_

“Of course.”

Luckily, his nurse was standing at the desk that wasn’t far from Freddie’s room. Roger told her that he was hurting pretty badly and asked for her, and she immediately went to go help him.

None of them could ask for a kinder nurse

“Roger told me you’re hurting, and I think the painkiller we have been giving you isn’t quite strong enough. This one,” she held up a syringe and began to put it in his IV line, “is a bit stronger and it will make you quite sleepy. I’d suggest you take a break from Scrabble and sleep. You don’t want to go too fast, even though you’re feeling better. Remember, you still need time to heal.”

He wrote _thanks_ on his paper

“You’re welcome, Freddie. Rest well.”

Once she left, Freddie wrote a short sentence for his friends:

_I_ _think_ _I’ll_ _sleep_ _now_

“Get some rest, Fred. We’ll be right here if you need us.” Brian spoke quietly.

He smiled weakly in thanks.

They turned off the lights in the room and closed the blinds so Freddie could sleep a little better, but left the blinds on the window looking into the hallway open so they could have a little light. The guys softly chatted to pass the time, checking on Freddie every few minutes.

After Freddie had been asleep for about twenty minutes, it was Roger’s turn to check on him. Freddie looked a little... odd? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, so he asked one of the guys to turn the lights on. When he did, his heart jumped.

“Deaky, Brian, does Fred look a little blue to you?”

“Yeah.... yeah he does.” Brian mumbled, his brow furrowed in concern.

Oh no.

He’s not breathing.

Roger felt the blood drain from his face

“Oh Jesus... he’s not breathing.”

“What?”

“I SAID HE’S NOT BREATHING!”

They jumped into autopilot after that.

Roger tearfully shook Freddie’s shoulders and looked at his pale, blue face. If it wasn’t for his heart monitor screaming at them,

He would’ve seemed dead

“HELP! SOMEBODY HELP US!” John screamed as he ran into the hallway. Brian stood in quiet shock, completely motionless:

Freddie was dying

In just a few seconds, a doctor and a team of nurses rushed into the room. One nurse gathered the three up and shoved them out of the room.

Brian was the only one who fought back.

“No, no, no you don’t understand! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND I PROMISED HIM I’D STAY! I PROMISED!”

John and Roger had to force him not to run back into the room.

They watched in horror as they saw a nurse lowered Freddie’s bed so he’s lying flat.

“Not breathing... low blood pressure... he’s in anaphylactic shock I need some epinephrine now!” one nurse yelled. The doctor quickly grabbed a huge tube filled with the stuff the nurse ordered, and the other held a mask with a bag attached.

She was breathing for him

Another nurse grabbed a tube and removed the mask from Freddie’s blue lips. He ripped off his bandages, cut his stitches, and-

They had to look away

He pushed the tube into the hole he’d reopened

Then, suddenly, the four people in there stopped what they were doing. One pulled off a glove and wiped sweat away from her brow.

“What’s going on?” Roger asked.

“I don’t know...” John shakily whispered.

Then, the nurses left the room and the doctor was the only one that approached the three.

They didn’t like his expression.

He sighed, and said,

 

“I’m so sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keep yourselves alive people <3  
> freddie will return


	5. Just Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> brian panics  
> freddie returns  
> mary cheers up freddie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y’all i’m sorry for the last chapter😂😂😂 i hope you accept this as my apology  
> it’s really sweet and doesn’t have any rough parts (except for the very beginning)

 

When the doctor emerged from Freddie’s room, the three felt terrified and confused. He had been doing so much better... what went wrong? When he approached them, he had some news to tell.

_Please_ _be_ _good_ _news_

_Please_ _be_ _good_ _news_

“I am so sorry that you had to see that. Freddie had an allergic reaction to the painkillers. His throat swelled, so he couldn’t breathe properly. We had to replace the trach. We’re keeping him sedated until the swelling is gone, but he should be just fine.”

Relief washed over them. Brian, however, still felt utterly useless. All he wanted to do was help his friend... but all he could do was watch him suffer. From the moment he saw Freddie’s blue, near lifeless lips, a seed of panic planted itself in his stomach.When the nurse forced him away from Freddie, the seed grew. He felt even more useless. Now, he wasn’t even allowed to be there for his dying friend? The seed turned to fear. Then, it became more like a bomb, ticking away, waiting to explode. And when the doctor walked away, it blew.

Brian felt like he was drowning in himself. He couldn’t take in a full breath of air. Warm tears flowed down his face and he didn’t even know why. He could hear his friends taking to him, but it took John’s hands on his shoulders to snap him out of it.

“Brian, are you alright?”

“C-Can’t breathe”

_Panic_ _attack_

“Ok, Bri, let’s just sit down and relax.”

John helped his trembling friend sit down, and he and Roger did the same. They just so happened to be in the middle of the floor, but they didn’t care. With the comfort of his friends, Brian soon slowed down his breathing and calmed down. When he was feeling up for it, they got off the floor and sat back down with Freddie. It was hard to see him being set back from this, but it was reassuring to know that he’d be alright. Just an hour after his allergic reaction, Freddie was ready to come off the sedatives.

The guys were quietly chatting when he woke up. When they heard a deep breath from him, they looked over to see a couple of sleepy brown eyes peeking through heavy lids.

“‘Mornin Fred. Or should I say afternoon,” John said with a soft smile.

“How do you feel?” Brian asked, concerned that the reaction could still have some adverse effects on him.

He gave them a weak grin and a thumbs up.

Despite still being groggy, Freddie refused to go back to sleep. He managed to sit up in an attempt to wake up a little, but it didn’t really work. His head would occasionally dip down mid-conversation (well, as close to a real conversation they could have), then he’d suddenly shoot back up and rub his eyes. Despite his friends explaining to him what happened and that he still needed rest, he wasn’t about to sleep more.

_I’ve_ _slept_ _more_ _lately_ _than_ _I_ _ever_ _have_ , _and_ _I_ _absolutely_ _refuse_ _to_ _get_ _another_ _wink_ he announced.

He was back asleep within ten minutes

When he woke up again, he was grumpy.

No one likes grumpy Freddie

Still, Roger poked the bear

“Thought you refused to go back to sleep,” Roger snapped.

Freddie narrowed his eyes and got a sudden mischievous look.

_Abort_ _mission_

He took a page out of the notebook he had been writing with, crumpled it into a little ball, and chucked it at Roger. It hit him right between the eyes.

_War_

“Hey!”

He threw the paper back at Freddie, who promptly threw it back at Roger. The other two laughed, earning two more balls of paper thrown at them. Soon, they had a paper war. Freddie constantly tore more pages off his notebook and kept throwing them at the others. They all wound up throwing the paper balls at each other, and Freddie used up the rest of his notebook for ammo. They were mid throw when Freddie’s nurse Julie caught them red handed.

“Would anyone care to explain to me why there’s paper everywhere?”

They all pointed to Freddie. Freddie pointed at Roger.

_He’s_ _a_ _meanie_ Freddie wanted to write on some paper, but he realized it’s all gone!

“Freddie started it,” Roger accused.

He mimicked shock and looked “very offended”

Since he had no paper left, Freddie resorted to speaking in mime.

He pointed back at Roger and made the best angry face he could muster. The nurse looked incredulously at Roger.

“Hey, don’t look at me! He’s the one who made promises he can’t keep.”

“Well, all playing around aside, I came in to tell something very important. You should be able to go home in a few days, but we can’t send you home with any painkillers because the one you’re on is IV only. We typically would send patients home with painkillers but considering your dangerous reaction, it’s not safe to do so. So please, keep in mind that when you get home, you’ll need to take it easy. You’ll be in more pain than you are here,” then, she turned to the other three,

“Now, I have no doubt that you know Freddie better than anyone, so you’ll need to help him. He’ll need all the distractions he can get until he’s truly on the mend. I’ll fill you in on the specifics when he goes home.”

The guys all said their thanks and the sweet nurse gave Freddie a new notebook and a couple pens before she left.

As Freddie spent more and more time in bed, he grew restless. It started with tapping his fingers, then he resorted to wiggling his feet. Then, when that stopped working, he decided it’s time to stretch his legs.

No one noticed until he nearly swung his legs off the bed.

With a sudden surge of instincts kicking in, Brian jumped up and stopped Freddie from getting off the bed.

“Uh, no, no, no! Just what do you think you’re doing?”

Freddie made a little walking motion with his fingers.

“You want to take a walk?”

He nods yes

“Ok, let me help you up.”

_No_

He proceeded to slowly and carefully plant his feet onto the cold tile floor. His legs felt stiff and the sudden change in elevation made him feel a bit dizzy, but he managed to stand up unassisted. Now, walking was the real challenge. He managed to take a few wobbly steps by himself, but Brian saw that he was much too weak to walk alone.

“If you’re going to walk, I’m helping you.”

He shook his head no

“Fred, I know you’re tired of being treated like a porcelain doll, but getting halfway down the hallway, falling, and hitting your head isn’t a good plan. So at least let me hold your arm.”

_Ugh_ , _fine_

He stuck his left arm out and Brian hooked his arm around, but not without an eyeroll from Freddie. Then, Freddie and Brian slowly plodded out of the room and into the hallway, Freddie dragging his IV pole with him. It was nice to see the two friends waking together, but it just needed to be under different circumstances.

Freddie was surprisingly tired after his short walk up and down the hallway, and was glad to see a familiar face come in after he settled back into bed.

When Mary walked in the door, Freddie was asleep. She bought him a bouquet of daffodils to brighten up his room a little. He wasn’t very deep asleep, for when she kissed his forehead, his eyelids fluttered open. His sleepy brown eyes were full of joy when he saw her, and he pulled her into a warm embrace. He kissed her long and sweet, staring into her blue eyes lovingly after.

“Hello, Freddie,” she whispered tearfully.

_Hello_ _my_ _dear_ he wrote on his paper

“How are you feeling?”

_Great_

_Even_ _better_ _now_ _that_ _you’re_ _here_

_The_ _daffodils_ _are_ _beautiful_

“I’m so glad you like them. I picked the best ones I could find.”

Freddie smiled, and kissed her again.

_Guess_ _what?_

“What?”

_I_ _walked_ _today_

“You did? Oh, how wonderful!”

Freddie was beaming. The pride he felt while talking about little things with Mary was pure and sweet.

_Yeah_ _but_ _not_ _without_ _Brian_ _babying_ _me_

“Brian babied you?”

_He_ _refused_ _to_ _let_ _go_ _of_ _me!_

“Mary, for the record, I did not “baby” Freddie”

Freddie laughed with Mary to the best of his ability, only making a breathy whistle from his trach.

_Don’t_ _tell_ _my_ _doctor_ _I_ _laughed_. _I_ _think_ _he_ _wants_ _to_ _turn_ _me_ _into_ _a_ _silent_ , _humorless_ _beast_

“My lips are sealed.”

The couple joyfully chatted away for hours. They played several games of scrabble with the guys, and talked with Freddie’s mom when she visited. But eventually, Mary had to leave. They were all very sad to see her go, but they knew they’d see her the next day. When Mary kissed Freddie on the forehead as a part of her goodbye, she also said.

“I love you, Freddie.”

As his “I love you too”, Freddie pulled her into a sweet kiss, then he planted cute little kisses all over her face. In protest, she giggled,

“Freddie, stop it! I seriously have to leave! I have work in the morning!”

When he finally relinquished his grip, she gave him one last kiss and left.

Freddie stared longingly at the door long after she was gone

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was refreshing, wasn’t it?  
> welp, we’re out of the frying pan into the fire tomorrow🔥  
> jkjk no one gets super sick again  
> (freddie might even go home)
> 
> as always, leave some comments and kudos! they’re my fuel to keep this going
> 
> keep yourselves alive<3


	6. 1001 Yellow Daffodils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone sneaks Oscar into the hospital  
> The boys get bored  
> A reporter comes to interview Freddie about the attack  
> Roger flips his lid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys so today i realized i made a HUGE mistake and i can’t believe i never saw it- if your jaws are wired shut, you can’t be intubated!!!!! so i changed a bit of the details-not major storyline altering details but important enough that i’d suggest people who read the previous chapters to go back and read them again so future chapters will make sense. i also read more about voice box injuries so now freddie’s treatment will be a bit more accurate.  
> anyway, this chapter isn’t super angsty, but someone who we don’t like does make an appearance...
> 
> also sorry this took so long-this chapter is extra long so maybe that’ll help

The next day, everyone was very relaxed. They played games, told stories, and did everything they could to keep Freddie entertained. John even managed to sneak Oscar into his room, and Freddie hid him under the sheets when the doctor came to check on him. But when the doctor left, Oscar managed to jump out of the bed. He got scared and ran under the bed, refusing to crawl out. Brian, being the animal lover he is, decided it would be best to let the cat relax and come out on his own. Roger had other ideas.

He first tried to kneel where the cat was and try to coax him out with a bit of food.

He received a swat in the face for that

Then, Roger tried kneeling on the opposite side of the bed, clapping his hands, and yelling at him.

Didn’t work either

“Freddie, why won’t your cat cooperate?”

 _He_ _doesn’t_ _like_ _you_. _Also_ , _Oscar_ _only_ _comes_ _to_ _my_ _voice_ , _so_ _have_ _fun_ _getting_ _that_ _to_ _work_

“Alright, that’s it.”

Roger laid on the floor and reached under the bed. When he still couldn’t reach the cat, he slid half of his body under the bed.

Oscar didn’t like that

Suddenly, Oscar was growling and Roger was screeching.

Everyone else was cackling

Even Freddie squeaked out a good laugh

“FREDDIE GET YOUR CAT OFF ME! STOP LAUGHING THIS IS VERY SERIOUS.”

Brian wiped tears from his eyes from laughing so hard.

“ROGER THE CAT HATES YOU WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?” Brian wheezed.

“Mh-mm.”

Suddenly, everyone stopped laughing

Freddie’s nurse was standing in the doorway

Everyone turned beet red

“Now, just _why_ is Roger in the floor?”

“Deaky brought Freddie’s cat.” Brian accused.

Looking very offended, John said,

“Well it’s not my fault, Freddie asked me to!”

 _Did_ _not!_ he mouthed

“Can someone help me? I think I’m stuck.” said a muffled Roger.

Rolling her eyes, Julie grabbed Roger by the feet and pulled him out from under the bed. Oscar was still clinging to Roger’s head.

No longer interested in Roger, Oscar jumped onto the bed, purring happily.

Roger’s hair was a tangled blond mess all flopped over his face. He had scratches on his cheeks and arms from the cat’s protests.

“You four are a mess,” the nurse laughed.

 _I_ _agree_ Freddie wrote

“Well, when I come back, I don’t want to see someone else trapped under the bed, alright?”

“Yes, mum,” Roger retorted.

Freddie snapped his fingers at Roger to get his attention. He pointed to the chair beside his bed.

“You want me to sit here?”

He nods _yes_

Freddie turns the chair around so Roger’s back is facing him. He sits up and turns towards Roger. He combs through his hair with his fingers to help get some of the knots out.

“What’s he doing?” Roger asked.

“I think he’s fixing your hair.”

Freddie meticulously gathered little strands of Roger’s blond hair and began a delicate french braid. When he finished the braid, he realized he didn’t have any way to secure it. Luckily, Mary walked in as soon as the braid was finished.

“Freddie, what is Oscar doing here?”

 _He_ _missed_ _me._ _Do_ _you_ _have_ _one_ _of_ _those_ _hair_ _things?_

“What are you talking about?”

“He means one of those things you use to tie your hair back,” Roger explained.

Mary dug around in her bag, then pulled out a hair tie. Freddie took it and tied it around the end of Roger’s braid.

“How do I look?”

“Beautiful”

“Lovely”

“Like a girl”

“Shut UP, Deaky! Freddie what do you think?”

 _You’re_ _missing_ _one_ _final_ _thing_

“What?”

_Flowers_

Freddie quickly fashioned a flower crown out of the daffodils Mary gave him. Roger was reluctant to wear it at first, since he didn’t want to look even more like a girl than he already did. But when Freddie gave him the saddest eyes he could muster, Roger gave in.

“Fine, give it here.”

Freddie smiled and clapped, bubbling with excitement over his creation. Roger wasn’t too happy that he had to wear a flower crown, but he would’ve done anything to make his friend happy.

Since the whole crew was there, they decided to play a couple games of scrabble with Mary before she had to leave again. They decided to stop when Oscar walked all over the scrabble board.

Freddie was once again saddened to see Mary leave, especially because she had to take Oscar home. Roger also had to take his braid down so Mary could have her hair tie back. But as always, his friends had ways to make him smile. They were tired of playing scrabble and being confined to a small room, so they put their heads together.

“What if we sneak him out?” John suggested.

“Nah, too risky. We’d be spotted

in an instant.” Brian explained.

“What if I race Freddie in a wheelchair?” Roger added.

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” John agreed.

“Uh, no. First of all, how is Freddie going to get around with his IV pole? Drag it? Second of all, neither of you have ever used a wheelchair. How do you expect to race in one?” Brian doubted.

“How about we get Freddie’s opinion- Hey Fred! Wheelchair race: aye or nay?”

Freddie nodded “aye” with an excited grin

“Well, the ayes have it! Deaky, let’s go get some wheelchairs!”

“We have two ayes. John, please tell me you don’t agree with this,” Brian pleaded, but with no success.

“I have to agree with them. That does sound like a lot of fun.”

Brian looked at John as if to say “seriously?”

“Alright, fine. But if you break something, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With this, John left to find some wheelchairs. He felt a little guilty to be taking wheelchairs that someone else might need, but he knew that it would make Freddie happy so it was worth it. He wound up taking Roger with him on his wheelchair hunt because it would be very difficult to carry two by himself.

Freddie and Roger sat in the wheelchairs and proceeded to figure out how to work them. John was in charge of Freddie’s IV pole. When Roger tried to turn, he went too fast and crashed into Brian, causing him to topple over.

“Why did I agree to this?” Brian complained.

“Cheer up, Brian. At least we gave you the easiest job,” John said.

“Which is?”

“Determining which one wins.”

“So I get to stand in the danger zone?”

“It’ll be fun!”

“It won’t if one of you runs over my toes.”

John pointed to Brian’s giant clogs and said,

“With those shoes on? You won’t even feel it!”

After Freddie and Roger were satisfied with their “training”, they were ready.

“Wait! Give me ten minutes and I’ll be right back. Rog, where’s your keys?” John sputtered.

“Where are you going? My keys are on the table.”

“Just going back to the flat to get some things.”

In exactly ten minutes, John returned. He grabbed a video recorder and... were those roller skates?

“Since when do you have roller skates?” Brian asked.

“Always. I just keep them hidden.”

John put them on and everyone expected him to be a little wobbly, but he could wear them just as easily as any other shoe. To be honest, he was perfect. He was so good that it seemed he barely needed to move his feet to move.

Everyone was dumbfounded

“ _How_?” Roger asked, his jaw wide open.

“I was on a team in school. We were the best in the country.”

“I believe it.”

Once everyone got over their shock from John’s skills, they were ready to race. Somehow, several people had heard about the race and crowded the starting line. Brian stood at the end of the hallway and marked the line of tile that acted as the finish line.

 _Where_ _did_ _all_ _these_ _people_ _come_ _from?_ Freddie wrote for John

“I think they wanted to see if the rumors are true.”

_Rumors?_

“That Freddie Mercury is racing down the hallway in a wheelchair. To be honest, it’s quite the spectacle.”

Once Brian had the tape rolling, he called

from the end of the hallway,

“Are you ready?”

“Ready!”

“Alright... on your mark, get set, GO!”

With that, they sped down the hallway. People were cheering for them both. John gave Freddie the slightest little push to help with the extra weight he was pulling. Roger struggled to keep the chair in control. For the first half, Freddie and John were in the lead. It seemed all hope was lost for Roger.

Not quite

Roger had been saving his strength. In the last quarter, Roger suddenly picked up speed and was ahead of the two. Before they could come back in the lead, Roger crossed the finish line.

“AND THE WINNER IS ROGER TAYLOR!!!!” Brian yells as he directs the camera to him.

“Roger, how does it feel to be the grand winner?”

“I FEEL AMAZING!”

Freddie was literally pouting like a small child. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his head dipped.

“Fred, anything you want to say?” Brian asks, part of him hoping he didn’t make Freddie even more mad. Then, he pulled out his notebook and balled up a page. He hit Brian right in the forehead with it.

“Alright then.”

Brian decided it would be a good time to stop filming before Freddie got into a fit of rage and broke the camera. He didn’t think that would happen based on his physical condition, but he knew better than to underestimate Freddie.

Once Freddie was back in bed and cooled off from his loss, the nurse came to inform them that someone was here to interview Freddie. This is something that the guys had put out of their minds for the time being, but knew it would happen eventually. They asked Freddie if he was up to it since he hates being interviewed. Knowing that the media would find out what happened to him anyway, Freddie agreed. But when the man walked in, just his very look set the guys off. He wasn’t a very tall man, probably just a couple inches shorter than Freddie. He was thin, and had blond hair that was neatly fixed. Well, maybe it wasn’t necessarily his hair or appearance that set them off, but his steely blue eyes. They had a coldness to them, like he had an agenda to follow, and would do whatever it takes to get it done.

“Hello, Freddie. ‘Name’s Paul Prenter.” he said in a honeyed voice as he shook his hand. He had completely ignored the others until they spoke up.

“Hi, I’m John Deacon.” he said as he stuck his hand out for Paul to shake. Roger and Brian did the same, but looked at each other as they had a mutual feeling of unease around the journalist.

“Since _Mr._ _Mercury_ isn’t feeling himself right now, we’re giving you five minutes to ask him a few questions then you’re _gone_.” Roger warned with venom in his voice, already sensing that the man wasn’t here to be friendly. Freddie mouthed him a silent _thank_ _you._

Paul pulled up a chair beside Freddie’s bed and pulled out a notepad and a pen.

“ _Mr_. _Mercury_ ,” he addressed while cutting his eyes at Roger, “Would you like to describe what happened the night you were beaten?”

Freddie frantically shook his head no, the attack still raw in his mind.

“I don’t like him,” Roger whispered to Brian while a little seed of anger planted itself in his chest like a bullet.

“I don’t either... keep an eye on him.”

The man cleared his throat, and the next words that came out of his mouth set everyone off.

“What did you do to deserve the attack?”

Visibly hurt by this question, Freddie wrote his next words carefully.

 _I_ _did_ _nothing_ , _but_ _I_ _can_ _see_ _why_ _you_ _could_ _deserve_ _a_ _thorough_ _beating_ , _dear._

The man thought of a retort, but decided to ask another question instead.

“Do your... preferences in partners have anything to do with the attackers?”

His words were cold as a steel blade, and Freddie felt he was stabbed with them. His heart drummed in his chest and his hands shook.

Freddie didn’t even have time to put his pen to paper when Roger took over.

“That’s it, you’re out!” Roger growled.

“Shouldn’t Freddie make that decision for himself?”

The seed of anger sprouted

Roger grabbed Paul by the collar and pinned him harshly against the wall.

“How about you leave, and go tell your little cronies that Queen will not be taking any more questions!” Roger hissed right in the man’s face.

“Alright, Roger that’s enough.” Brian commanded.

It would’ve been enough if Paul didn’t shove Roger off him.

Roger huffed out a laugh and grinned at his feet. Then, he reared back and landed a solid fist right on Paul’s cheekbone. The man stumbled and fell, clearly not prepared for the hit he took. Brian ran in and held Roger back, despite him squirming and cursing at the man.

“ROGER THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Roger broke out of Brian’s grip and stood there, trembling with anger. He watched as the slimy little man scrambled to his feet, shaking partly from anger, partly from fear.

“This won’t be the last you see of me, you hear? YOU’LL SEE ME AGAIN!”

With that, the man scurried off like the little rat he is...

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> paul’s a butthead (and yes he’ll be back😉)  
> freddie finally goes home next chapter
> 
> as always, comments and kudos are my fuel so don’t be afraid to let me know what you think!
> 
> keep yourselves alive people<3


	7. Caged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger regrets punching the journalist  
> Freddie goes home  
> Everyone realizes just how hard life will be...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaand the angst is back  
> are ya ready kids?

* * *

Even after Prenter ran off, everyone was still tense. Roger winced as he flexed his aching hand, his knuckles already bearing dark bruises. He started to regret punching the man. Yes, he’s an atrocious person and yes, he was very offensive to Freddie, but now they had to deal with the repercussions. The man could press charges against Roger which could ruin the band’s reputation. Or, he could publish false information about the band in the tabloids which could also damage them. To top it all off, Roger could’ve broken his hand which definitely wouldn’t do him any favors.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he sighed.

“Rog, don’t beat yourself up about it. That man deserved it,” John said in an attempt to calm his friend’s nerves.

“He said he’ll come back. And, knowing how the media is, I don’t doubt it.”

“Listen: people like him are just money hungry cowards. He doesn’t care about us, he just cares about the money. He’s just mad because you stood up to him.”

Roger thought for a second, then replied,

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. But now, we’ve got another problem: I think my hand is broken.”

John was about to call the nurse when she happened to walk in.

“I heard about the journalist. I’m so sorry you had to deal with that- oh dear, that doesn’t look good.” Julie said, then stopped in her tracks when she saw Roger’s bruised and swollen hand.

She looked at it for a second, then led Roger away.

* * *

 

Freddie watched as the nurse led Roger away. He worried about his friend. Because of that evil journalist, Roger got himself hurt. Now, the reputation of the band could be at stake! He got so caught up in his own head that Freddie forgot he was hurt for a second. He tried to shift in his bed, but had to stop due to the protests of his ribs. He wanted to be in his own bed, in his own flat, with his friends instead of nurses to check on him. He was tired of the needle in his hand constantly giving him drugs.

He was homesick

Freddie tried to go to sleep in an attempt to distract himself from his worries, but he couldn’t drift off. He wanted to call Mary, but he couldn’t use his voice. He wanted to be at home with Oscar, who was surely missing him. Luckily, Freddie was pulled out of his thoughts when the nurse and Roger walked back in the room. Roger looked a little frustrated and his hand was in a splint. The nurse had some papers in her hands and she looked like she had some news to tell.

“Well everyone, it looks like Freddie can go home tonight. However, when you go home, Freddie, you will have a lot of rules to follow if you want to get your singing voice back. You three will need to be sure he follows them.”

 _I’m_ _going_ _home!_ Freddie thought. He just wished he could voice his excitement.

“We’re listening,” Brian said.

“Freddie, you might want to write these down.”

How many are there?

“Ok so the big ones are no alcohol, no smoking, and no coffee until you’re completely healed.”

That’s a tall order

“Don’t try to use your voice for two more weeks, then we will put a speaking valve on your trach which will allow you to speak. No singing though. I will help you schedule speech therapy appointments to help you learn how to breathe properly when you get your trach removed.”

Wow

“So you three will have jobs too. You can’t smoke either, because Freddie can’t be breathing second hand smoke. You all live together, correct?”

“That’s right,” John replied.

“You all are Freddie’s support system. And though I have no doubt you three will care for him, you can’t allow him to ever be alone. Remember, he can’t call for you if he needs something, and it will be exhausting to run notes to everyone all the time. If he needs to call someone, you are his voice. This will not only be very hard on him, but it will be very hard on all of you. Well, I don’t mean to be a downer, but these are all things I have to tell you. Now, Freddie, if you could sign here...”

Freddie signed some papers and such, and the sweet nurse gave them her personal phone number if they ever have any questions. After she left, Freddie snapped his fingers at Brian to get his attention.

“What do you need?”

 _Can_ _you_ _call_ _Mary_ _and_ _tell_ _her_ _I’m_ _going_ _home?_

“Of course, Fred.”

He nodded in silent thanks

Brian called Mary, then came back and told them he was going to run to the flat and get Freddie some clean clothes. The other two stayed to keep Freddie company. John used this time to pack up all the games they had brought over.

“Freddie, can you believe that I’m not allowed to drum for three weeks? Three!” Roger complained. He studied the splint on his hand with his brows furrowed.

 _Well_ _darling_ , _I_ _can’t_ _talk_ _for_ _two_ _more_ _so_ _I_ _guess_ _we’re_ _even_

“I guess so.” he chuckled.

Before long, Brian had returned with a fresh change of clothes for Freddie. After he changed clothes, he felt more like himself. He was wearing his own clothes, his own shoes, he was freed from his IV and he was about to go home! He was so happy, he seemed to forget that he’s still hurt. Despite his bruised jaw and eye, and his slightly crooked nose, Freddie still had a smile on his face.

When it was finally time to leave, the nurse came by his room with a wheelchair. He politely refused it. He still walked painfully slow and didn’t have much energy, but Freddie wasn’t going to be dragged down by his injuries. But as he walked down the hallway, he did realize he needed an arm to lean on. Brian, being the natural caretaker he is, was that arm. The four said their goodbyes to the nurses and doctors, and together they left the hospital.

It was a beautiful, sunny day. Freddie realized how much he missed the sun on his face. He stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes, breathing in fresh outdoor air for the first time since... since that night.

“Freddie are you okay?” Brian asked, confused by his friend’s actions.

He opened his eyes and nodded, pointing to the sun.

“The... sun? You were feeling the sun?”

He nodded yes

“Well, I guess it has been a long time since you’ve been outside.”

Freddie wore a sad smile on his face. He started to realize just how much he missed...

And will miss

Brian opened the door for Freddie, and he winced as he sat down. He still had trouble moving around due to his ribs. Brian sat beside him and John sat in the front seat. Roger drove them back to the flat.

“So Fred, what’s the first thing you’ll do when you get home?” Brian asked.

Freddie realized he left his pencil and notebook, so he resorted to acting out his thoughts once more. He rubbed his cheeks, taking note at how scruffy they are. He hadn’t shaved in several days and was in desperate need of one.

“You’re gonna shave?”

Freddie nodded

Brian laughed

When they came in sight of the building the flat was in, Freddie’s heart skipped a beat. He was home! Oh, how he missed waking up to his friends by his side instead of nurses. How he missed silly squabbles with his friends that ended with laughter! Oh how he wanted his life to go back to normal!

But a little voice in the back of his mind told him his life would never go back to normal.

When Roger parked the car, they all hopped out and Brian helped Freddie up. Freddie was very tired by the time they all got up the staircase to their floor, but he couldn’t hide his excitement.

When Roger opened up the door and they all walked in, surprise was the first thing Freddie felt. His mom and Mary were both there to greet him. The flat had been straightened up and a new chair replaced the one Roger broke. But the most surprising thing was all the daffodils.

Dozens of bouquets of daffodils covered the tables, chairs, and lined the walls. Most had little notes tied to them.

“Welcome home, Freddie.” his sweet mother said.

He smiled, and gave both his mom and Mary a hug.

He looked around at all the flowers and notes, marveling at the sheer amount of them. Who would send him so many flowers?

 _Where_ _did_ _all_ _the_ _flowers_ _come_ _from?_ he wrote for his mom.

“Your fans! Aren’t they lovely?”

He nodded slowly, growing suspicious. He never made a statement for the media that anything was wrong...

 _How_ _did_ _they_ _know_ _that_ _I_ _was_ _in_ _the_ _hospital?_

She and Mary looked confused

“My dear, don’t you remember the statement you made for the papers?”

As she said this, she handed Freddie the newspaper from that morning.

The headline?

 _Freddie_ _Mercury_ _Hospitalized_ _With_ _Brutal_ _Injuries_ _After_ _Targeted_ _Attack_

The writer?

 _Paul_ _Prenter_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> told ya paul would be back
> 
> updates may be slow due to my life being incredibly busy at the moment but next week should be better
> 
> as always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated
> 
> until next time <3


	8. Show and Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie makes a confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the late update i’ve been super busy lately
> 
> the angst is returning

 

The headline?

_Freddie_ _Mercury_ _Hospitalized_ _With_ _Brutal_ _Injuries_ _From_ _Targeted_ _Attack_

The writer?

_Paul_ _Prenter_

They saw Freddie’s face change from confusion to shock.

“Freddie, what’s wrong?” Roger asked when he saw Freddie’s expression. He handed the paper to him.

Roger’s blood boiled

“I don’t believe this... targeted attack? It wasn’t targeted, was it Freddie?”

Freddie didn’t respond and lowered his eyes. He hadn’t told anyone about the attack, so there’s no way they could’ve known it was targeted.

“Freddie, when you were attacked, were you specifically targeted?” Brian asked softly.

Well, no sense in hiding it now

He gave a quick nod, not looking away from his feet. He started to tremble slightly as the memories of that night came back to his mind. He felt the damp nighttime air. The chills down his spine from the cold breaths of his attackers. The pain. But most of all...

The _fear_

It was less the physical things that he felt that night that remained in his mind. It was more of the emotional. The shock when he was initially jumped. The fear when he was trapped in the alley. The guilt he felt when he realized Roger would never be able to hear his apology.

He didn’t think he’d make it out alive

Freddie trembled more and more until his whole body was shaking. His breathing quickened, his chest heaving with every shaky breath.

“Freddie, are you alright?” Mary asked with worry in her voice.

He couldn’t answer. Part of his mind was screaming at him for not answering. The other part screamed for him to answer.

_I’m_ _not_ _alright_

_I’m_ _alright_

_Answer_ _her!_

_Don’t_ _say_ _a_ _word..._

“Come here, Freddie. Let’s go sit down, okay?” his mom said gently, leading him over to the living room. The others cleared the flowers off the couch and chairs. Mary grabbed Freddie’s pencil and notebook.

“You can tell me what’s bothering you, Freddie. It’s alright.” she said softly, taking his trembling hands in hers.

He took his notebook and pencil, and steadied his hands long enough to write out a short sentence:

_they_ _tried_ _to_ _kill_ _me_

The moment he wrote that sentence, everything he’d been feeling spilled out. He needed to cry out and scream and curse but he couldn’t because of the tube in his neck. All he could do was hold his head in his hands as tears spilled over his cheeks. The tears stung his black eye so bad he wanted to cry out even more. He was overwhelmed with fear and pain and frustration.

“You’re okay, Fred. We’re here.” Brian spoke softly. Freddie looked up at him, and his heart broke. His pleading eyes were red and puffy. His face had red patches and his cheeks were wet with tears. Although he couldn’t make a sound, Freddie’s eyes told him everything:

_I’m_ _hurting_

_I’m_ _not_ _okay_

_I_ _need_ _help_

“We’ll help you through this, Fred. Everything will be alright.”

_No_ _it_ _won’t_ he thought

Eventually, Freddie’s mom and Mary left to give Freddie some space. Once he’d settled down, he decided it was time for the shave he’d promised himself. He hadn’t seen himself in the mirror since the attack, so he prepared himself for what he would see. When he looked at himself in the mirror and saw what his family had been seeing, his heart broke for them. He had yellowing bruises on his jaw, nose, lips, and one of his eyes. He had stitches on his slightly crooked nose. His bruised eye was a little less swollen, but he still couldn’t open it all the way. Then, his eyes traveled to his neck.

In his mind, it looked disgusting. It was badly bruised, but that wasn’t the worst part. To someone else, the trach was just a little white tube sticking out of his neck. But to Freddie, it was the horrible contraption that took his voice away. If it was safe, he would’ve clawed it out of his throat. He knew he needed it, though, so he kept his impulses inside.

He gently dabbed the shaving cream on his face, and winced when he got to his jaw. When it came to actually shaving his face, Freddie was extra careful.

_I_ _don’t_ _need_ _any_ _more_ _cuts_ _on_ _my_ _face_

When Freddie looked in the mirror after he shaved, he felt more like himself, but also less because the bruising was more noticeable. He considered putting on a little makeup, but what’s the point? No one would be seeing him. He wouldn’t be going out and about in this state. Not just because he was too weak to, but also because he knew the paparazzi would be following him, taking photos of his shocking appearance. Humiliating pictures would soon be in the newspapers without his permission. The public was just not something anyone wanted to deal with at the moment.

But it was understood that something had to be done about the attack

Later, when everyone was settled into the living room, John decided it was the best time to bring it up.

“Freddie, we need to go to the police soon. They need to know what happened to you so those people won’t hurt anyone else,” he spoke in a gentle voice. He had a feeling Freddie wouldn’t feel up for it, judging by his tired eyes, but it was worth asking.

_Tomorrow._ _Too_ _tired_ he wrote

“It’s alright. Tomorrow’s fine.”

With that, Freddie slowly rose from his chair and gingerly walked over to his room. Since none of the others knew what he was doing, Brian asked,

“What are you doing?”

Since he was away from his pencil and paper, Freddie simply pointed to his room and hoped they would understand.

“Are you... going to sleep?”

He nodded, and slowly walked into the bedroom. When he shut the door, all of his exhaustion seemed to hit him. He suddenly couldn’t keep his eyes open, and his body felt heavy. Not even bothering to get under the sheets, Freddie sank into his bed and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

 

“I’m worried about him,” Brian said softly, just in case Freddie was already asleep.

“It’s barely four in the afternoon and he’s already gone to bed,” Roger added.

“He’s just had a long day. He’ll probably feel a little better tomorrow when he’s got some more sleep,” John explained.

There was some silence that was quickly interrupted by Oscar meowing at Freddie’s door. He wanted in.

Roger got to his feet and despite the cat’s hatred for him, he didn’t hiss when Roger drew close. He gently opened the door just enough for the cat to fit through when he noticed Freddie was shaking, no, shivering. He didn’t have anything covering him, and it was noticeably colder in the room. Taking into the fact that Freddie was fairly weak, a chilly room would be much worse for him. Roger pulled the blanket off his own bed (which was conveniently in the same room-they had to share due to limited space) and gently draped it over Freddie. He didn’t wake up, but relaxed in his sleep, snuggling into the new blanket. Once Roger saw that he was warmer, he tiptoed out of the room and gently shut the door.

“Is he okay?” Brian asked him when Roger returned to the living room.

“It’s too cold in our room. He was shivering in his sleep so I put a blanket on him.”

“I just wish I could do more for him.”

“Me too.”

They wanted to take his pain away

They wanted to hear his voice again

They wanted their Freddie back

The four quietly milled around the flat, arranging the flowers and notes in a way that would give them more space. Brian and Roger went to the store to try to find something that Freddie could easily eat, like soup. Although none of them were cooks, they figured they could put their heads together and make something edible.

Not long after they returned to the store, they were putting groceries away when they heard a loud thud. The three looked at each other, confused as to what it might be. Then, it hit them:

It came from Freddie’s direction

Immediately stopping what they were doing, the three ran into the room.

Freddie was a mess

He was lying in a heap on the floor, all tangled up in the blanket. His shirt was soaked through with sweat. His hair stuck to his forehead. He was clearly only half awake, looking around with very confused eyes. Then, when he saw his friends, he fully woke up. His eyes were glassy, wild, and full of fear. His hands shook.

What happened?

“Freddie, are you alright?” John asked softly.

He took the pencil and paper off the nightstand and shakily scribbled,

_Nightmare_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates will be slow due to life seriously kicking me in the face lately
> 
> next chapter will be up as soon as humanly possible i promise
> 
> keep yourselves alive <3


	9. Echoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie struggles to live with his injuries
> 
> The guys try to cook
> 
> They get into a bad argument
> 
> Some events unfold that eerily reflect the not so distant past...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the late update i’m sick so my brain hasn’t exactly had the thinking capacity to write quickly
> 
> We’re getting back into the angst so hold onto your hats because this gon’ be a wild ride

Freddie was back in the alley

He tried to move, but his body was completely paralyzed. He shivered in the evening cold. He heard the foot steps of his evil attackers approach him from behind.

Every part of his mind screamed for him to run

But he couldn’t move

He felt a harsh, brass knuckled fist collide with his stomach. He doubled over and fell to his knees. He gasped as he failed to take a full breath. He braced himself for the second hit, which was a sharp hit to his cheekbone.

Why was he reliving this night?

He looked up to see his attacker, but all Freddie saw was an empty alley.

Terror filled his soul

He looked around wildly, trying to see the people attacking him

But they were invisible

His head was pulled up by a fistful of his hair, and this is when the first man was supposed to speak.

But Freddie heard nothing.

Shaking and terrified, Freddie remembered he still had a voice-so he used it

“What... what is happening? WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME?” he screamed into nothing. He was desperate.

He felt a fist collide with his nose in response. Pain seared through his face as he felt a warm, wet substance drip down. He looked at the ground to see drops of fresh blood on the wet concrete. 

He was suddenly pulled to his feet and slammed against the wall behind him by invisible hands. He felt the presence of his attacker right in front of him, but saw nothing.

 _This_ _can’t_ _be_ _real_

 _This_ _can’t_ _be_ _real_

 _Is_ _this_ _real?_

He felt a cold fist hit the tender area beside his eye. Isn’t this when he told Roger he was sorry?

Apparently staying silent didn’t matter

The fist of his attacker smashed into his throat. He felt it crack. White, searing pain flared through his senses. Freddie’s vision darkened, but he did not yet go unconscious. He tried to scream yet again, but nothing happened. His breathing was suddenly difficult. His throat burned with every breath. Then, something different happened. He fell to the ground, but didn’t go unconscious. He finally heard something:

a door opened?

The dream suddenly shifted. He was... in his room? The ground felt... soft? Like carpet? He looked around to see his friends crowded around him.

What was happening?

“Freddie, are you alright?” John asked.

Freddie’s mind suddenly came back to him. He realized that he was dreaming, and woke up when he hit the floor. His clothes and hair felt wet and cold. His weak body hurt. Realizing that his friends were extremely worried, Freddie scrambled for the pencil and paper on his nightstand. With shaking hands, he scribbled

_Nightmare_

They seemed to relax a small bit, but still looked concerned. They expected the whole ordeal to be hard on him, but no one expected him to have nightmares so bad he fell out of his bed. Now, they were worried he hurt himself when he fell.

Freddie untangled himself from the blanket. He gripped the nightstand in an attempt to stand up, but stopped when he nearly pulled it on top of himself.

“Need some help?” Brian asked, holding his hands out.

Freddie nodded, and grabbed Brian’s hands. But when Brian pulled him to his feet, he paled and stumbled. Brian forced him to sit down.

“You alright?”

Freddie nodded, but wrote the word _dizzy_ on his paper.

“Can one of you get some water?” Brian asked, turning back to the other two. John went into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Brian came up with a list of things in his mind that could cause Freddie to faint. Sleep deprivation wouldn’t be a reason because he’s done nothing but sleep over the past few days. Blood loss wouldn’t work either, because he didn’t lose enough to seriously hurt him. So, now he’s down to how much he’s eaten that day.

“Freddie, when was the last time you had anything to eat?”

He shrugged his shoulders and wouldn’t meet Brian’s eyes.

Brian thought for a second, then realized he hadn’t seen Freddie eat or drink anything that day.

“You haven’t eaten anything today, have you?”

He shook his head no

Brian sighed, knowing he couldn’t get mad at him. He didn’t have the right to.

“Have you had anything to drink today?”

Once again, Freddie shook his head no

More concerned than annoyed, Brian asked,

“Why?”

 _Hurts_ _too_ _much_

“Fred, I understand that it hurts, but you have to take care of yourself, alright?”

He nodded, but something told Brian it would be a struggle to keep Freddie going.

When John returned with a glass of water, Freddie practically lunged at it. He would have drank it all at once if it wasn’t for his throat hurting so bad. He sipped at it, already starting to feel a little better. But, his hunger suddenly decided to show itself. He was reluctant to ask for food since he knew eating was painful, but Freddie knew he had to get something in him before the day was over. Luckily, Brian asked if he wanted food before he had to drag out his pen and paper. He nodded yes. So, Brian left to buy some food, but John and Roger had other ideas:

They were going to cook

It was slightly terrifying for Freddie because he heard frequent sounds of pots banging, items dropping, and people yelling. He prayed they didn’t burn the flat down before Brian got home.

How many idiots does it take to make a bowl of soup?

Apparently two

After nearly burning the kitchen, the two produced a decent looking bowl of chicken soup. Now, whether it tasted good or not, Freddie was to decide.

When he made his way to the kitchen, the first thing that hit him was the smell of burning. He could tell they tried to mask it by opening up the windows and the door. The second thing that hit him was the incredibly messy, no messed up kitchen. Once again, they tried to hide it by putting some of the pots in the sink, but everything else was so messy it couldn’t be hidden. There was burnt stuff all over the stove which Freddie assumed was from food boiling over. He didn’t know much about cooking, but he knew this didn’t look right. However, despite the mess, there was one pot that wasn’t an absolute mess. It still looked pretty clean, and inside of it was a nice looking soup.

Freddie’s hope in them was restored, but he spoke too soon. When they gave him a bowl, he was skeptical despite its appearance. It looked okay, and it smelled okay, but did it taste okay?

Well, first bite gave him an answer:

No, it did not taste even remotely okay. He didn’t even know that it was possible for something to be so salty. And... just why did they think macaroni noodles were a good idea? But the chicken... it was so bad there were no words for it.

This is the scene Brian came home to. He walked in to see a gagging Freddie and a disaster in the kitchen. He nearly dropped his grocery bags right there in the doorway.

“What the _hell_ happened?”

Freddie pointed at Roger and John, who stood like two children who had been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to.

“We, uh, well we tried to cook,” John mumbled.

“You what?”

“We tried to cook, okay? We just wanted to do something nice for Freddie,” Roger replied, a little louder than John.

“Well, no need to get so defensive about it, Roger.”

“Why not? You seem very angry about this.”

“Roger, I’m not angry. Just-“

“Brian, there’s just no sense in getting all worked up over this. It was an accident,” John added, attempting to diffuse the situation.

“Yeah, and it was a bloody big one! I was out an hour and all hell broke loose!”

Sensing an even bigger argument forming, Freddie tried to get their attention. He clapped his hands to get their attention. But, instead of listening to him, Roger snapped,

“Freddie, can you just wait for one second?”

 _No, I_ _cannot!_ he thought

Freddie was basically ignored. Despite his best efforts, the fight escalated. Roger wound up throwing the pot of soup to the ground, making the mess in the kitchen even worse. Then, in a fit of rage, he grabbed the lid of the pot and chucked it at Brian-

But he accidentally clipped Freddie’s bruised side with it

Everything stopped

Freddie looked at them for a second, then stumbled over to his room. Brian noticed how weak he looked and ran to his side, but he was too late. Freddie tripped right outside the doorway and rammed his broken ribs into the doorframe. 

He wanted to scream

Searing, white hot pain tore through Freddie’s side, and he crumpled to the floor. It suddenly hurt to breathe. Brian kneeled beside him, expecting an angry Freddie to push him away:

But he softened when he saw Freddie’s eyes

He looked up at Brian with teary, pain filled eyes. His trembling lip broke his heart.

“Freddie, what’s wrong? What hurts?”

Freddie clutched his side in response.

Upon seeing all of this unfold, Roger was suddenly flooded with emotions. He felt guilty, angry, and embarrassed all at once.

He had to clear his head

“I’m leaving,” was all he could say.

He grabbed his coat and ran out the door, not even bothering to close it behind him.

It was an all too familiar scene that they never wanted to see again.

“Roger, what are you doing?” John asked with desperation as he chased Roger down the hallway.

He was ignored, and Roger disappeared down the stairwell.

“I’m going after him.”

“No, you’re not!” Brian yelled while rising from the floor.

“Yes I am! Last time we got into an argument, Freddie nearly died. I am NOT letting that happen to Roger.”

So he grabbed Roger’s car keys and ran out the door.

Brian turned back to Freddie, who’s eyes were wide with fear. He was terrified that the same thing that happened to him would happen to his friends. He wanted to get up and run after them, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. They were long gone and it wouldn’t be safe for him to be running around while he’s still healing.

Freddie gripped the doorframe in an attempt to stand but found it too difficult. Noticing his struggle, Brian ran over to help.

“Hold on, Fred. Let me help,” he said as he crouched by Freddie. Brian hooked his arms around him and practically picked him up.

This is when he realized how frail Freddie was.

His pallor face was made even more heartbreaking by the swelling and bruising. His deep brown eyes were glassy and watery, no longer filled with the life they once had. But what was most striking was the pain in his expression.

Brian wanted to take all the pain and despair away from Freddie. He wanted to see him smile again. He wanted to hear him laugh. He wanted to hear him sing!

But it would take a miracle for that to happen

When Brian noticed Freddie staring at the door John and Roger ran out of, he saw the worry in his face. He knew that Freddie wouldn’t stop thinking about John and Roger until they came home, especially because their situation was eerily similar to his.

“Everything will be alright, Fred. John will come home with Roger in a bit. There’s no reason to worry, okay?”

Freddie nodded, but he truthfully didn’t agree. He had a sinking feeling that it wouldn’t be alright.

About an hour later, the door to the flat opened. John shuffled through the door and shut it behind him. He threw Roger’s car keys on the counter.

Roger wasn’t there

“I’m so sorry. I looked everywhere but I just couldn’t find him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don’t we love cliffhangers?
> 
> comments and kudos are my fuel
> 
> keep yourselves alive people <3


	10. It’s Just One Thing...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deaky continues to search for Roger
> 
> Freddie has a bad feeling
> 
> He has another nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry about the wait! this one was very difficult for me to write and i’ve been really busy (shocker) so i didn’t have much time to write

 

“I’m so sorry. I looked everywhere but I just couldn’t find him.”

_Oh_ _no..._

“I-I looked in bars, alleys, even a couple of stores and I couldn’t find him. I had to come back because it started to rain and I couldn’t see the road anymore.”

“It’s alright John. There’s nothing else you could have done,” Brian said calmly, trying to reassure his friend.

Freddie was about to panic

He tried to hide his trembling hands, but the others couldn’t help but notice when he wrote,

_What_ _can_ _we_ _do_ _now?_

Brian sighed and said,

“Well, I guess we could call around, find out if anyone’s seen him. If not, all we can do is wait.”

Freddie solemnly nodded, and clenched his shaking hands into fists in an attempt to control them. He wondered if that was the same thing Brian said the night he was attacked...

While John called around to see if anyone had seen Roger, Brian was focused on cleaning up the kitchen. It helped him take his mind off the fact that Freddie was scared out of his mind. It took everything in him not to run over to Freddie and ease his worry. As much as he wanted to, he knew that in this situation, Freddie needed space. He didn’t like being treated like a child.

Even though Freddie was terribly worried and was still recovering from the hit he took from the doorframe, he still wanted to help Brian with the kitchen. He didn’t think it would be fair to make him clean up all that mess by himself. He cautiously made his way into the kitchen, trying to hide how much pain he was in.

“Fred, I appreciate that you want to help, but you need to rest. I’ll be alright,” Brian explained softly. Even though Freddie made a good effort in disguising his discomfort, the dark circles under his eyes were hard to miss. He was hurting, and he was tired. He needed rest even if he denied it.

“Go get some sleep. I can help Brian with the kitchen,” John added.

He wanted to be stubborn and help anyway, but he couldn’t deny that he was tired. His ribs were throbbing, and it hurt to take a full breath. His broken body was tired, and his mind was exhausted. His worrying over Roger drained him.

He decided it would be in his best interests to sleep

He shuffled over to his room, this time avoiding the doorframe. He gently shut the door behind him, and carefully sat on his bed. He winced as he did so, his sore ribs hurting worse as they were compressed. Then, Freddie just so happened to glance over at Roger’s bed at the opposite side of the room. He stared at it in silence, his mind trapped on his missing friend.

_Don’t_ _worry._ _He’ll_ _be_ _there_ _in_ _the_ _morning_ he told himself.

But he couldn’t stop worrying

Maybe he had a reason to

Freddie laid back in his bed and expected to fall asleep instantly based on how tired he was, but he simply stared at the ceiling. He didn’t really know why, but all he wanted at that moment was for sleep to take away his worries for a few hours...

Of course, he had no such luck

When he finally went to sleep, he had another nightmare. He was back in the alley. This night was different, though. It was freezing cold and pouring down rain. No one was outside, until Freddie heard the side door of the bar open. Two men walked out. They were tall, muscular, intimidating men, and it was clear they were looking for trouble. Just moments later, the door opened again and a much smaller man walked out. He was a small, wiry young man with blond hair that stopped at his shoulders. His droopy blue eyes sluggishly observed his surroundings, and he was clearly drunk.

Freddie recognized him immediately

“Roger?” he called.

He couldn’t hear him

Roger began to walk down the end of the alley where Freddie was, but he didn’t see him. Then, Freddie spotted the two men who had walked out before Roger. They were walking towards him rather quickly. One of them called to him, but he didn’t hear. Freddie’s heart started pounding when he realized the men were gaining on Roger and he didn’t notice.

“Roger, turn around! Can’t you hear me? TURN AROUND!” Freddie shouted at him, but he was ignored. So, he resorted to the next best thing: force.

He brushed his soaking wet hair out of his eyes and ran towards Roger. But as soon as he was a foot away, Freddie ran into something and fell right on his back.

But there was nothing in front of him

Freddie stood back up and reached out in front of him. His fingers touched a cold, harsh barrier that was completely invisible to him.

A barrier keeping him from saving his friend

He watched as the two men approached Roger. One of them tapped him on the shoulder and he sluggishly turned around.

Freddie couldn’t understand what they were saying, but he knew Roger was quickly annoyed by the two men. He tried to stumble away from them, but the two men didn’t leave him alone. They didn’t care that he was too wasted to think clearly. They didn’t care that he shivered against the cold rain. They didn’t care about Roger-

And he was in their way

One of the men pulled Roger around by his shoulder to make him face them. Before his impaired mind could make sense if it, the man reared back and delivered a sharp hit right to his cheekbone. Roger stumbled back and fell, but somehow managed to quickly get back on his feet.

Freddie was terrified

“Roger, listen to me! Get _out_ of there!” Freddie yelled, his voice wavering. He had his hands pressed against the invisible wall as if maybe, just maybe, it would give.

It did not

“Roger, _please! PLEASE_ JUST LISTEN TO ME! RUN!”

He did not run

He received a harsh hit to his nose. Fresh blood dripped from his nostrils, staining his face and the ground below. This time, Roger hit back. He managed a solid punch to the cheek of his attacker, but it didn’t do much. The man shook it off, and realized that Roger would be stronger than he expected:

So he had to make him weaker

The man and Roger faced each other for a few, painful seconds, neither of them hearing Freddie’s cries from behind the glass wall.

“ROGER, PLEASE! LISTEN TO ME! GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

No one listened

In those few seconds, the man thought over places that would be the most crippling to the smaller one in front of him...

The man reached behind his back. From Roger’s angle, he couldn’t see what was back there, but Freddie could:

The man had his hand on a gun

Before Freddie could even react, the man pulled out the gun. Not even a second later, a single shot rang out in the night.

Roger was lying in a heap on the ground, curled around his bleeding leg.

His screams could be heard past the ringing in Freddie’s ears.

It was the most ungodly sound he had ever heard. Raw, animalistic, piercing screams could be heard in between frantic gasps for air. Roger had taken a single bullet to the knee to incapacitate him. The sight of the poor man lying on the wet concrete, with his bleeding face full of agony, clutching his knee all while screaming in pain would’ve made anyone break down.

Freddie saw all of this happening to his friend who he deeply cared for

Freddie himself was hysterical. He screamed and cried and beat on the wall separating them. He pounded his fists on the invisible barrier until his hands felt like they were shattered. He considered defeat; he nearly gave into the idea that nothing could be done.

But he couldn’t stop now

In one last bout of strength, Freddie took his fists and beat them on the wall as hard has he possibly could-

A _crack_ formed in the glass

The two men who had been beating Roger suddenly turned around

They could see Freddie now

Without debate, they ran as fast as they could away from the scene

At this point, Roger had managed his pain enough to stop screaming. He felt sick not only from the pain, but from the sight of his own blood pooling on the pavement. His knee was now bleeding profusely, and he cupped his hands around the entry and exit wounds in an attempt to stifle bleeding. The only time he looked up was when he heard the men run away.

Freddie saw Roger look up, his big blue eyes not filled with wit and mischief, but with fear and agony.

He could’ve sworn Roger looked him right in his eyes...

“Fred... Freddie?” Roger weakly panted, his voice slightly slurred.

Freddie’s eyes went wide with surprise

“I’m- I’m coming, Rog! You’ll be alright. I’m right here!”

He had to break this wall down

He didn’t care about how much pain flared in his hands and wrists every time he hit the glass. He didn’t care about the cuts that formed from the cracks.

All he cared about was Roger

With every hit, the crack grew bigger and bigger. Freddie continued to softly talk to Roger, and Roger quietly replied, his words slurring more and more every time.

When Freddie noticed his eyes growing droopy, he knew he needed to hurry: Roger didn’t have much time left.

“Roger, stay with me, alright? I’ll be right there!”

“Freddie, I-I can’t”

“Roger, stay awake! Roger? ROGER!”

He laid motionless on the cold, bloodstained concrete, and the night grew still.

* * *

 

Freddie woke up from his nightmare. He was shaking and sobbing, his heart racing while he tried to process it all. It was deathly quiet in the flat, which made his anxiety from the nightmare worse. He had his friends to comfort him the first time... where were they now?

Oh wait!

He shares a room with Roger!

Freddie sat up and looked over to Roger’s bed-

It was empty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cliffhanger anyone?
> 
> let me know what y’all think in the comments!
> 
> keep yourselves alive <3


	11. After Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger comes home
> 
> Freddie deals with more side effects
> 
> The guys make some big lifestyle changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooooo sorry about the wait! i’ve once again been incredibly busy. also sorry about how short and choppy this chapter is- i had really bad writer’s block with it i don’t really know why
> 
> anyways, enjoy!

He wasn’t there

Freddie’s heart raced as he came to terms with what he saw:

Roger didn’t come home last night

Was he hurt?

Was he attacked too?

No, maybe he just got into some trouble and spent the night at the police station. Knowing Roger’s hotheaded personality, that wasn’t out of the question. Freddie thought that surely Brian or John would wake him if Roger came home or they got a call about him.

Knowing that he didn’t wake up to one of his friends telling him that Roger was okay made him automatically fear the worst...

Freddie got out of bed as quick as his tired limbs would allow. Pain shot through his bruised and broken body, but he didn’t care. In that moment, all he cared about was Roger’s safety. He shuffled over to his door, and he opened it with bated breath.

His heart stopped when he didn’t see Roger anywhere. Brian and John were in the kitchen, seemingly not concerned.

Then, all his fears were released when he saw a foot hanging off the arm rest of the sofa.

Roger had come home and couldn’t even make it to his room before he passed out. Luckily, he managed to flop himself face down on the sofa.

It really was a sorry sight: Roger was face down, his cheek resting on his arm which stuck out to the side. He had one leg tucked under him while the other stuck out from the arm rest. His damp clothes and hair stuck to him, and he reeked of alcohol. Remember the brace that he was supposed to be wearing on his hand? That was long gone. To top it all off, he snored so loud Freddie was surprised anyone got any sleep at all.

Roger was a mess, but he was home safe

And that was all that mattered to Freddie

“Mornin’ Fred,” Brian greeted with a yawn.

“Don’t worry about Rog. He came in about two this morning and passed out on the sofa.”

“Here’s some breakfast, Fred,” John said as he slid a bowl of cereal to him. Freddie nodded in thanks, but hesitated before he took a bite. It’s not that he didn’t trust John’s cereal making skills, but the pain in his throat. Without the painkillers he had in the hospital, Freddie’s battered throat was much more sensitive. Therefore, eating became very unpleasant.

As Freddie picked through his breakfast, he would periodically glance over to the couch where Roger was sleeping. He knew that Roger was fine, but his nightmare still lingered in his mind. He vividly remembered Roger’s bleeding face being filled with fear and confusion as he lay on the cold pavement. He remembered his pain filled eyes silently pleading for help.

But it was a nightmare

It wasn’t real and Freddie knew that, but why did it hurt so much? Roger was fine. It was all a dream. He told himself it wasn’t real...

But fear is

For Freddie, the fear lingered. The fear that something like this could actually happen to Roger. It happened to him, so it could happen to any of them. They all saw what it did to Freddie. Why did the very thing they agreed to prevent happen again?

“Freddie, you alright?” Brian asked softly, his question pulling Freddie out of his thoughts. Freddie nodded, barely looking up from his now soggy cereal. Brian could sense that Freddie wasn’t telling the whole truth, but didn’t want to bother him with more questioning.

Moments later, a loud groan could be heard from the living room. A messy blond head poked up from the sofa. Roger stood and shuffled over to the kitchen, rubbing his temples in an attempt to fend off a nasty headache.

“Good morning, Rog” John greeted. However, it was not a good morning for Roger.

“Shut _up_ , Deaky. I have a headache.” Roger replied.

“Don’t you mean a hangover?”

“And a cold?” Brian added.

Roger definitely had both. They all knew he had been out drinking, but walking around in the cold rain definitely made him sick. He also had a good sized knot on his forehead which Freddie assumed was from an alcohol fueled accident of some sort.

“Freddie? Anything else to ask me?” Roger sighed, expecting a sass filled retort in response. Instead, Freddie reached for the notebook on the counter and wrote,

_Do_ _you_ _need_ _some_ aspirin, _dear?_ _Ice_ _for_ _your_ _head?_

Roger nodded, and began to rifle through the cabinet in search of something to eat.

When Freddie rose to get the things for Roger, he noticeably winced. Brian offered to get them instead, but Freddie refused. It hurt to do just about anything, but Freddie wasn’t going to give up.

The rest of the morning was very relaxed compared to how their lives had been. Nothing was thrown, no one was yelled at, and no one argued. The only tense part of their morning was when they nearly had to force Roger to get a bath, but for some reason he decided to be a child about it. He still smelled like alcohol from the night before, and no one wanted to have a smelly Roger near them. However, the mood immediately lightened when Freddie was playing around with Oscar. It wasn’t uncommon to find Freddie sitting in the floor with his cat, but there was something different about it this time. It was just what the four needed to start their day off right. Even if Freddie was the only one who truly enjoyed playing with the cat, the others were just glad to see their friend smile.

Around noon, Freddie went into his room to change out of the clothes he slept in. Since he had woken up in a sweat, his clothes had gotten damp and he was quite uncomfortable in them. Now, changing clothes seems like an awfully mundane task, but it was proven to be very difficult. Freddie’s ribs were awfully sore and prevented him from breathing deeply or raising his arms. He couldn’t lean in any direction without causing some sort of pain. Now, he had to try changing clothes, which requires a good bit of movement. The first thing he tried to do was pull his arms out of his sleeves, which resulted in sharp pain radiating from his ribs. He tried it again, this time slower and more careful. It still hurt very badly, but he persevered. When he successfully pulled his shirt off, he happened to look in the mirror:

What he saw was not what he expected

The first thing that shocked him was the deep purple, nearly black bruises that mottled his tan skin over his ribs. Combined with the yellowing bruises on his face and neck, he looked pitiful. The second thing he noticed was his weight. He was always skinny, but he noticed how his collarbones and ribs were more pronounced. Now, he hoped that his throat would start to feel better enough to eat.

When Freddie thought about his appearance, he wondered how it would go over in public. He couldn’t stay inside forever since he would have appointments and such, but the way he looked made him want to. He knew the media would crowd him as soon as they caught wind of him being out of the flat, and the media meant cameras. Cameras meant that pictures would be scattered all across the news. The last thing he wanted at the moment was attention from the public.

How would he get through this?

He was too sore to even take off a shirt. The pain was too excruciating to eat. He was too tired to do anything but sleep, but even when asleep he didn’t rest. He was plagued by the trauma he experienced-

And he didn’t even have a voice

What did he have?

A hole in his neck preventing him from doing what he loved the most

Broken bones that prevented him from taking a full breath

Nightmares that kept him from resting

Fear that this could happen again

His family treated him like a paper doll. He didn’t want to be cared for like an invalid. He wanted to do things himself, but the logical side of his mind told him that he needed help. He needed care. He needed support.

But he didn’t want it

He just wanted his life to go back to normal...

Could it?

The sound of bottles clanking from the kitchen snapped Freddie out of his thoughts. It sounded like stuff was being thrown... did they get in an argument again? Freddie grabbed a clean shirt and tried to put it on, but his ribs were too irritated from getting the old one off. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s ran around the flat with no shirt. So, he prayed that they weren’t destroying the flat and opened the door.

What in the world were they doing?

Freddie’s eyebrows knit together in confusion when he saw that the kitchen was a mess, but no one was arguing.

“I know it’s a mess. We’re not trying to kill each other again,” Brian said, which eased Freddie’s worries but not his confusion.

“We decided that since you can’t have alcohol, cigarettes, or coffee, we’re not either,” John explained. That explains why they had all the alcohol, cigarettes, and coffee in a trash bag.

“It’ll be hard on all of us to quit like this, but it’s hard on you, too.” Roger added.

“Freddie, you will not alone in this. We simply won’t allow it, even if it means turning our lives around.” Brian said.

Freddie smiled warmly, and pulled the three in a warm hug.

Maybe everything would be alright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> giving up part of their lifestyle will be hard on the guys, but they’ll get through it
> 
> also what do y’all think about a small time jump next chapter? i’m thinking two weeks at the most
> 
> let me know what y’all think!
> 
> keep yourselves alive people <3


	12. Sinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie starts to have serious self esteem issues
> 
> His nightmares worsen
> 
> But, the guys have a nice day overall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS I AM SOOOOOOO SORRY ABOUT THE WAIT AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
> 
> I wasn’t in a very good place mentally and I didn’t have much, if any inspiration to write. I managed to finish this chapter. I’m sorry about how choppy and unpolished it is- I needed to get something out there so I wouldn’t abandon this fic.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

The next two weeks had a lot of highs for the four. Roger was able to get back to drumming and Freddie got his stitches out. He became significantly better at communicating with expressions so he wouldn’t strain his hand from writing too much. His mother also did a lot of cooking for them since they refused to mess with the kitchen after the soup incident. For a few days, Freddie seemed to be full of life again. They played games and laughed, and Freddie even helped write songs.

But, their happiness was short lived

It started when Freddie stopped eating

In his broken state of mind, it wasn’t worth the pain. His throat was still very tender from his injury. He couldn’t even swallow soft foods.

Trying to get him to eat was like trying to feed a picky toddler. The guys would do everything in their power to try to get him to eat. They fixed food that they were sure he could swallow, but he would only be able to eat a few bites before he was tired of it. Eventually, they reached the point of frustration that Freddie got lectured by the three.

It was _pointless_

He just sat there, staring at the floor. He hated being lectured. He wanted to be left alone. He just brushed off their words.

What he didn’t understand is that he needed to hear every word.

He didn’t see the black hole he was being sucked into. He was going down a path that lead into darkness. He didn’t see himself as the bold, rebellious Freddie Mercury anymore. He started to think of himself as a nobody with no voice to express himself with. He thought he looked like a freak with the little tube sticking out of his throat that took his voice away. He looked bony and frail: his ribs stuck out of his abdomen. His backbone started to show. His elbows were knobby and his knuckles stuck out. His cheekbones were more pronounced than normal and his eyes began to look sunken.

He wasn’t himself

He didn’t look, feel, or act like himself

Freddie was just a shell, a ghost, a shadow

Worst of all, he didn’t know how to find himself again

He felt hopeless, useless

Now, it was starting to show

This morning was the morning when Roger’s suspicions came to life. He had seen little things that told him that Freddie wasn’t handling his trauma well. The obvious one was the fact that he stopped eating. He also noticed that Freddie had a lost look in his eyes, like he was constantly searching for something within himself.

The biggest thing that drew suspicion was that Freddie basically stopped writing songs.

He had a little black notebook that he kept on his nightstand that he would scribble lyrics that popped into his head. Roger would often find him sitting on his bed, completely absorbed into the lyrics he was writing. It was mesmerizing. His hand would move across the paper as quickly as his mind thought of words. His initial writing would be very messy, but later cleaned up and those little scribbles would often become great hits that the world would know and love.

But lately, Roger rarely saw Freddie write. If he did, he would sit and stare at the paper, then write down a few words only to scribble them out. The last time Roger saw Freddie write, he simply stared at his paper, almost as if he willed his brain to come up with words.

But his mind was blank

To Roger, he looked like he wanted to write, he wanted to make music. But he had no inspiration, no need to write.

That was what Freddie was searching for:

Inspiration

The will to live life to the fullest

The will to carry on

Roger saw the beginnings of Freddie’s descent into darkness. He saw the tiredness, the loneliness, the sadness, the dullness in his eyes. It hurt Roger to see his friend descend like this, but it was nothing compared to Freddie’s nightmares.

This morning was a particularly bad one

Roger woke up in the wee hours of the morning to a strange rustling noise. Thinking his mind was playing tricks on him, he decided to go back to sleep. That is, until he heard even more rustling and panting coming from Freddie’s direction. He rolled over and, despite there being little light in the room, he could see Freddie thrashing around in his sleep.

Roger could tell by the panting and pained expression on his face that if he had a voice, he would’ve been screaming.

In an instant, Roger was on his feet

“Wake up, Freddie. Wake up” he said gently as he shook his shoulders. But instead of waking up, he thrashed more and more. Fearing he would hurt himself,

Roger tried to hold his arms still. When he grabbed him by the wrists, Roger could feel his rapid pulse. Whatever Freddie was dreaming about, he could tell it was horrible.

As Roger tried to hold him still, Freddie’s eyes suddenly shot open. His eyes were wide, full of fear. They were glassy, his pupils dilated, staring into nothing.

Freddie was so trapped in terror that he didn’t know that Roger was trying to hold him down. He was completely unaware of his surroundings. So, when Roger tried to gently shake him awake, Freddie lashed out in his sleep. He managed to wrestle his right hand out of his grip and lash out.

He unknowingly swung his fist right into Roger’s cheekbone

Roger stumbled back and held a hand to his stinging cheekbone. Freddie was suddenly still, but was shaking and panting. Then, it was like a switch was flipped in his mind. Roger saw the glazed look in his eyes change to confusion. He finally woke up. Freddie looked at the place where Roger was holding his hand, and quickly realized what he had done.

Although he couldn’t speak, his look of guilt told Roger everything.

“Oh, Freddie, I’m alright. You didn’t hurt me.”

Freddie sniffled, his eyes filling with sad tears. As they spilled from his eyes, he looked up at Roger pitifully.

_I’m_ _sorry_

_I’m_ _sorry_

_I’m_ _sorry_

As strange as it seems, Freddie tried to sob. He needed to. He needed to cry and give his feelings a voice. He needed to use his voice for something, so maybe he wouldn’t feel so useless.

All he could do was silently cry on Roger’s shoulder

“You’re alright, Fred. I know you didn’t mean it.”

Then, somehow, Freddie made a sound

He cried so hard he managed to force enough air around his trach to reach his vocal cords. He made a deep, hoarse cry without even meaning to. It absolutely hurt like hell to do it, but once he realized he could, Freddie didn’t stop. So, there he sat, clinging onto Roger’s tear stained shirt with more desperation than ever before. He was depressed, scared, and guilty all at once, and now he had the tiniest shred of a voice to say what he had been feeling for weeks.

Roger shushed Freddie and held him close. Although he did feel a bit better that Freddie was comfortable with him being his shoulder to cry on, his small swell of pride was immediately dashed when he reached a hand around to his back-

And felt bone

His heart jumped when he felt it, originally not knowing what it could be. When it registered that he felt the ridges of Freddie’s spine, his heart sunk. That wasn’t normal... Freddie had always been skinny but he was never bony.

Something deep within told him that something was seriously wrong with Freddie.

Eventually, he calmed down and Roger could tell he was exhausted. His shoulders were slouched and he was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

“You should get some sleep, Fred.” Roger whispered as he rose from his spot beside Freddie’s bed. But, he was stopped when Freddie’s hand flew out and grabbed his wrist.

“Do you want me to stay here?”

Freddie nodded, his eyes pleading.

“Hold on, give me one second.”

Roger then grabbed his pillow and quilt off his bed and spread them out on the floor beside Freddie’s. He made himself a little makeshift cot, so he could be easily reached by Freddie if he needed anything during the night.

* * *

 

Freddie slowly blinked his sleepy eyes open in the morning. He couldn’t remember his nightmare, but he remembered his actions. He remembered not being in control of his body, almost like he was sitting in the passenger side of a car: seeing, hearing, and feeling everything, but unable to control. He wondered if he was still dreaming when he hit Roger, because he couldn’t remember doing it. But, he did remember Roger’s look of shock, and that’s what hurt the most.

No, that’s what _scared_ him the most

He was scared it would happen again

The other three could see Freddie’s guilt as soon as he entered the kitchen. They all knew how much it would tear him up to accidentally hurt Roger. He failed to meet their eyes when he shuffled into the kitchen, and didn’t respond to John when he handed him a cup of tea. When he finally did look up to greet his friends, he chose the wrong time.

He looked up to see Roger’s face sporting a fresh bruise on his cheekbone.

“Freddie, I’m alright. It’s just a bruise, no need to worry,” Roger said, trying to calm down Freddie who was visibly upset.

Grabbing a notebook off the counter, Freddie frantically wrote,

_I’m_ _sorry_ _I_ _hurt_ _you_

“You didn’t hurt me. Promise.”

Freddie decided it wasn’t worth arguing about and stayed silent. The rest of the morning was relatively normal, but they were all a bit cranky due to a lack of coffee. The effects of limited caffeine started to get to them, but they persevered. The three definitely missed their morning coffee, but it was worth it if Freddie felt less alone.

Freddie surprisingly felt very good that day, despite what happened that morning. The group decided that they wanted some fresh air and invited Freddie to tag along. To their surprise, he nearly ran out the door ahead of them. He had barely left the flat since the attack and now that he had more energy, he was dying to go outside. There was a park not far from the flat, and they decided that it would be a good place for a short walk. But, there was one problem:

They ran the risk of being seen by the media

Sometimes, they felt like they had vultures circling overhead, waiting to swoop down at just the right moment. The last thing they needed was another journalist picking at them until they answered some questions. The others knew that Freddie was incredibly self conscious of his overall appearance currently, especially his trach. The prying eyes of an interviewer was the last thing he needed.

So, they came up with a plan.

They would basically walk in a protective circle around him so it would be harder for pictures to be taken of him. To avoid any attention brought to his trach, he wore a coat with the collar turned up, effectively hiding the trach from view while keeping it free so he could breathe. If someone approached them, they decided it would be best to ignore them until they got the memo. If they didn’t, Roger assured him he would take care of it; they just hoped it wouldn’t result in another broken hand.

With their outing planned, the four made their way outside.

It went without a hitch

In fact, they were feeling so confident that they went into a café and bought some pastries to take home. Freddie at first felt anxious about being in a crowded café, but his friends assured him that everything was fine. And for once in their lives, everything _was_ fine!

That day was a well deserved break for all of them

Freddie was delighted that he had a good day. He loved breathing in the fresh, cool air, even if he was unable to smell it. He loved feeling the sunshine on his face and the light breeze tickle his skin. He loved hearing the birds sing and the distant chatter of strangers.

He felt like he was finally getting back to normal.

That is, until he tried to go to sleep that night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaand cliffhanger
> 
> basically, this chapter starts to give us some  
> insight into how freddie’s mind has been effected by his injury and the long healing process involved. next chapter, we will have more drama and an important milestone in freddie’s healing process
> 
> also, you might notice that in the tags, i removed mary and freddie in the relationships section. that’s because i originally planned for mary to be a bigger part of the story, but alas, it didn’t work out that way
> 
> i promise it won’t be over two weeks until i publish a chapter again!
> 
> keep yourselves alive <3


	13. Author’s Note

Hey y’all! I just thought it would be a good idea to let y’all know that I won’t be posting a new chapter this week. It’s the end of the quarter in school and I’m insanely busy. I have to focus on homework this week so I don’t fail my classes. I will post more next week as next week is my spring break.

I’m so sorry about the delay! Please stick with me in the coming weeks... I have a lot planned!

edit: hey guys. writer’s block is real. so is an extremely busy life. and so is a ton of studying the week back from spring break *insert eyeroll* i’ve been extremely unmotivated lately, and although it’s been a minute without any new content, i promise this fic will NOT be abandoned. i simply won’t allow it. updates may be slow or fast, but i honestly can’t tell you when the new chapter will be out (probably some time this week but only time will tell) PLEASE stick with me! the future for this fic looks bright, even if it’s far away

Thanks for staying around!


	14. Reaching Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie’s night doesn’t go the way he wanted it to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m baaaaaaaaack
> 
> didja miss me?
> 
> ok seriously though i’m soooooooo sorry about the late update i’m in the last quarter of school and it’s really friggin hard and for some reason this chapter dragged, idk why
> 
> it’s not my favorite one but next one should be good-i’m excited about it
> 
> anyways enjoy!

yFreddie never thought that he would dread sleep

Sleep was supposed to be a time for the body to rest and repair itself. For the brain to retain memories and be prepared for the next day.

For Freddie, sleep became something to be feared

He used to sleep well. He used to have pleasant dreams. He used to feel refreshed and whole in the mornings. Now, he slept restlessly. He was tormented by nightmares. He felt tired and empty in the mornings.

So, when it was time for bed that night, he dreaded it

He carefully climbed into bed, and turned the light out, just like normal. Usually, he’d be asleep in moments.

He was kept awake by memories of what happened that morning. He didn’t want to hurt anyone again. He didn’t want to be tormented by things he wanted to forget.

So, he laid in bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark.

He never went to sleep that night It was awful, just laying there in bed in the darkness and silence. He got sleepy a few times, but did whatever he could to prevent himself from going to sleep. He tossed and turned. Threw the covers off just to throw them back on minutes later because he got cold.

Since the window in his room gave off enough light to see, Freddie decided he would do some songwriting to stay awake. He grabbed his notebook and pencil off the nightstand, just as he had done many times before.

This time, however, he noticed that the notebook had a fine layer of dust on the cover that he had to brush off. He opened the notebook, listening to the spine move with a familiar crack. He turned the pages until he got to the last one he had written on. It was a completed song, which was both a blessing and a curse. He had a new song to show the guys, but how was he supposed to put it together if he couldn’t sing it?

_How_ _am_ _I_ _a_ _musician_ _if_ _I_ _don’t_ _have_ _a_ _voice?_ he asked himself.

_Stop_ _it._ _You’ll_ _get_ _better._

Putting a lid on the frustration that was building in him, Freddie grabbed his pencil and held it to the paper. Normally, an idea would pop in his head at this moment and he would write as fast as his hand would allow.

He just sat there, staring at the paper, hands trembling. His mind was blank.

_What’s_ _the_ _point_ _of_ _writing_ _a_ _song_ _I_ _can’t_ _sing?_

He started to realize that he might be losing himself

He realized that he no longer wrote. He no longer went out with his friends. He no longer felt up to visiting people.

He always thought that if something ever happened, he’d always have his voice.

He never thought that the one thing he would lose would be his voice

So, as he sat on his bed in his moonlit room, a hopeless feeling burrowed itself in his gut.

The hopeless feeling churned and grew into frustration.

Frustration grew hotter and hotter until anger boiled over

He could feel it start in his chest and sear through his body until fingertips itched.

Anger swirled and grew within until he had to let it out.

Freddie clenched his jaw until his teeth hurt. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his legs, resisting the sudden urge to tear his room apart. His anger continued to build but the more it grew, the more he suppressed it. The more he suppressed it, the worse it became.

Then, something within cracked

The anger spilled out

Shaking, he threw his notebook against the wall as hard as he could. He debated throwing his pillow or destroying his nightstand, but he still had enough sense to know that it would wake Roger. So he sat on his bed with his knees drawn up, twisting his hands in his hair until the wave of anger passed.

If this is how sleepless nights were, he didn’t know how he’d survive.

* * *

 

Naturally, Freddie was the first one up that morning.

They had a morning schedule that they strictly adhered to. Brian was the first one awake and Roger would be the last. Freddie and John fell somewhere in the middle. Brian always made enough tea for all of them and sometimes had breakfast fixed. The first thing Freddie would do in the morning is feed Oscar, then fix breakfast if it wasn’t already done. John didn’t really do much, and they all knew not to mess with Roger before he had his coffee.

So, if Freddie was to be messing with their morning schedule, he would have to do so quietly. That is, until Oscar decided to jump on the counter and yell at him until he was fed.

Freddie quickly grabbed Oscar’s food and proceeded to pour it into his bowl. But, being a typical cat, Oscar was impatient and shoved Freddie’s hand, causing him to spill cat food all over the floor. The cat continued to meow impatiently

This is definitely not how Freddie wanted his morning to go.

All he wanted to do was feed his cat and fix a cup of tea... why did it have to be so difficult? Just as he didn’t think it could get any worse, Freddie heard one of the bedroom doors open.

For a split second, he feared for his life. If it was Roger, he was screwed. Roger was atrocious in the morning, especially if he woke up too early. So, when he heard Brian’s sleepy voice say,

“Freddie, what in the devil are you doing up so early?”, he was relieved.

He reached for the notebook on the counter to respond, just to discover it wasn’t there! The two men looked at each other for a second, one just as confused as the other.

“Oh...”

_Come_ _on_ , _Bri_ , _you’re_ _smart!_ _Figure_ _it_ _out!_ Freddie thought, somehow hoping Brian could hear what he was thinking.

“Uhhhh, the cat woke you up?”

Freddie shook his head _no_

“You... woke up too early?”

_No!_

“Couldn’t sleep?”

_Bingo_

Freddie nodded yes this time Brian looked as if he would ask more questions, but didn’t see the point since Freddie didn’t have a way to communicate then. Freddie was thankful that he didn’t ask, because he knew Brian would force him to get back in bed if he found out that he got no sleep.

Instead, the two started off their mornings. Freddie fussed over his cat, cleaning up the spilled food and being sure enough landed in his bowl so he could enjoy a full meal. Brian started up some tea for everyone while Freddie decided to try his hand at pancakes.

Brian nearly had a heart attack when he saw what Freddie was trying to do since he can’t cook, but together they managed to make a decent breakfast. Just as they were finishing the first batch, a sleepy John padded into the kitchen.

“‘Morning, Deaky” Brian greeted while sliding a cup of tea across the counter to him.

“‘Morning, Bri. ‘Morning, Freddie.”

Freddie greeted John with a wave

With a mischievous grin, he took a plate full of pancakes and passed it over to John. He looked at them, confused as to where they came from. But, when he saw Freddie’s questioning look, it all came together.

“Fred, did you make these?”

He nodded _yes_ with a smile

John suddenly looked apprehensive to eat them.

“Don’t worry, Deaks. He had help,” Brian said, attempting to dash John’s fears.

He sighed, “Alright, I’ll give them a try”

So, John tried a bite. To their surprise, he didn’t wince, gag, or give any signal that it was terrible. Actually, he looked quite surprised himself.

“Well, I must say that these are very good pancakes.”

Freddie smiled and danced around the kitchen, proud that he cooked something and didn’t burn the kitchen down. He and Brian proceeded to fix themselves some pancakes, satisfied with John’s judgement.

“Wait a minute... you fed me pancakes that you hadn’t even tried yet?” John inquired.

“Well we certainly weren’t going to eat them first” Brian laughed.

“Are you serious?”

_Deadly_ Freddie scribbled on a piece of paper he found on the counter.

“Seriously? So I’m the guinea pig now? What if they had been terrible? You’ve gotta be kidding...”

That’s how the rest of their morning went. Freddie and Brian got a rant from John. During which, Roger tiredly shuffled into the kitchen and mowed down the rest of the pancakes without saying a word. He seemed to finally question where they came from when he remembered that they can’t cook. When explained that Freddie was the one who cooked them, Roger dubbed him in charge of breakfast from then on.

Freddie was glad for the happy mood of the morning, since his night had been so bad. In that moment, he had everything he needed: his cat, his family, and a good laugh. Well, nearly everything

He was still missing a piece of himself, the one piece of his puzzle that without it, he would never be whole

He still didn’t have his voice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> freddie will be getting his voice back very soon
> 
> as always, comments and kudos are my fuel!
> 
> keep yourselves alive people <3


	15. Poll: Freddie’s first word(s)

Alright guys... sorry if I got your hopes up for a new chapter, but I really need your opinion. Freddie gets his voice back next chapter (yay!) and since y’all have been so good to me, I’m letting you pick the first thing that Freddie says. So, I need all of you to tell me what you think he should say in the comments below. In 24 hours, I will pick the winner, so be fast! The winner will get a shoutout next chapter!

Thanks, y’all!


	16. Reaching Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie has a rough night again, and the guys see just how much he needs his voice back...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all! So sorry about the late update. I had to break up with my boyfriend on Sunday (not fun) so I’ve been pretty sad since then and I haven’t been feeling super inspired. I’m back though, and I will post again very soon!
> 
> So, I promised a shoutout to the person who won. So, congratulations @I adore  
> this! Thank you (and everyone else) for your lovely ideas, if I could use all of them I would. Many of them made me laugh! 
> 
> Also, you may notice that this work is now part of a series. Yes, it’s named after the song I got the title of this fic from (i’m so creative). This is because there are some things in this universe that I am not including in the main story. One of them is a one shot where they deal with Paul, and another will be another fic. This other fic is an alternate storyline for the main fic. I’ve been apprehensive to write it because it’s a lot darker than this one (which is why it’s not the main storyline). Would you be okay with reading a darker storyline? Let me know in the comments!
> 
> Enough of my rambling... enjoy the chapter we’ve all been waiting for!

Freddie, once again, didn’t get any sleep that night

As exhausted as he was, he managed to keep himself up. This time, however, it was harder since he was ten thousand times more sleepy. He wound up turning the lamp on, and he was surprised it didn’t wake Roger.

But as he sat there, staring into nothing, a tune came into his head.

And he had to get it out

It didn’t matter that it was past midnight. It didn’t matter that he would wake both his flatmates and the neighbors. He was inspired for the first time in weeks.

So, he stepped out of his bedroom as quiet as possible and into the living room where they had a small piano. He sat downat the bench, and began to play.

* * *

 

Why the _hell_ was Freddie playing the piano so early in the morning?

This was Roger’s opinion on Freddie’s early morning playing

He woke up when he heard Freddie banged on the piano a few times for some odd reason. At first, Roger was mad enough to march his tail in there and throw something at Freddie’s head. But, when he started playing the beginnings of Bohemian Rhapsody, he paused for a moment.

It wasn’t the song that he was playing that made Roger think. It was the way he played it. It sounded more emotional and meaningful than it ever had. In fact, Roger was so captivated that he had to peek out the door to get a look at him.

* * *

 

Why was Freddie playing the piano so early?

This was what Brian thought when he was awakened by the sound of Bohemian Rhapsody. Yes, he was definitely grumpy, but he couldn’t be mad at how astoundingly beautiful it sounded. It sounded... different. More emotional, almost soulful. He listened intently through the door, grinning as it was the first time he had heard Freddie make any kind of music in weeks. Since the flat was situated in a way that the living room was visible from the three bedrooms, Brian decided he could get a peek at Freddie’s playing.

Apparently, Roger had the same idea because when he opened the door, he saw that Roger was watching Freddie too. Freddie was so focused on his playing that he didn’t notice that he now had two people watching him.

Brian smiled as he watched Freddie play, his head down in concentration.

Then, something changed

And his smile fell away

The music was no longer the instantly recognizable masterpiece that he was so proud of

Brian realized that the tune wasn’t just a tune:

It was Freddie’s _mind_

He heard the soft sound of a door open beside him and saw that John was now awake. Somehow, Freddie still did not notice that the three of them were now watching him, but Brian didn’t care about that at the moment.

He was more concerned with Freddie’s song

When he looked up to truly observe Freddie’s playing, what he saw broke his heart

Freddie’s skeletal fingers nimbly played his song. His fingers floated over the keys as if it was something he had played many times before. He had his eyes closed and his head down, feeling the music he played. They watched Freddie’s song change as he played, playing softly at first but gradually playing harder.

They realized that this is how Freddie spoke to them, even if it wasn’t intentional

The three all looked at each other with furrowed brows, deeply concerned with their friend’s mind.

Then, the song changed again

Now, Freddie played forcefully, almost angrily. His fingers no longer floated over the keys, but rather ran over them. His movements were so fast they were almost choppy, as if his fingers couldn’t play the melody in his head fast enough. He was playing with so much force that his body shook every time his hands hit the keys.

Brian began to see that Freddie cried out through the piano

He recognized it as a cry for help

They watched as Freddie’s playing became more and more forceful, his fingers now hitting the wrong keys as he became more sloppy. Eventually, he was no longer playing the piano, but just hitting the keys with shaking hands.

Then, he stopped playing

He hung his head, and he sobbed silently

Brian couldn’t take it anymore, so he rushed over and caught his crying friend in his arms.

Freddie clung to his shirt with more desperation than Brian had ever seen

When Brian wrapped his arms around him, he was shocked to feel bones. His ribs, shoulders, spine, things he wasn’t supposed to feel.

_He’s_ _a_ _lot_ _worse_ _than_ _we_ _thought_ , Brian thought to himself

Before long, Roger and John joined in, all three helping calm Freddie down and let him know they hear what he’s telling them, even though he can’t speak.

Once Freddie had calmed down, Brian helped him back on his feet. When he did, he realized how drained he looked. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, surrounded by dark circles. He could hardly hold his eyes open.

“Let’s get you in bed, Freddie. It’s late” Brian said softly, one arm hooked under Freddie’s as he guided him over to his room.

Once he got Freddie in bed, Brian tiredly shuffled back into the living room where the other two were. They all looked equally as tired, all drained emotionally from what their friend was going through.

He plopped down on the couch and looked lost in thought for a moment.

“Freddie has got to get his voice back,” Brian murmured, “I don’t know how much longer he can go without it.”

He didn’t know just how right he was

* * *

 

His whole body felt heavy

He felt like he was swimming in a barrel of molasses, his mind slow and lazy

His vision was blurry when he opened his eyes... that’s odd. He tried to sit up, but his neck protested like he hadn’t moved in hours. He tried to move his limbs, and they obeyed, but his joints cracked and popped with each movement.

Freddie sat up and stretched his aching muscles. Though his mind was still in a haze, he tried to remember what happened before...

He looked over at Roger’s bed to find it empty.

_Oh_ , _it_ _must_ _be_ _late_ , _then_ , he thought to himself

Freddie assumed that after not getting hardly any sleep for two nights, he slept in that morning. So, he shrugged off the tiredness and decided to get out of bed.

As soon as his feet hit the floor, a wave of dizziness hit him. His head swooned and his vision darkened as he sat back down on his bed.

He must have slept for a while

Freddie tried again, this time landing steady on his feet.

He shuffled on aching legs to the kitchen where he found John, Brian, and Roger looking quite tense. When they noticed him, he was bombarded.

“Oh, Freddie, thank God you’re awake!”

“We thought something was wrong!”

“How do you feel?”

Shocked, Freddie scribbled,

_What?_ _Did_ _something_ _happen?_

“Oh... you don’t know, do you?” John asked.

Freddie’s eyebrows knit together in confusion... what on earth was going on?

“Freddie, you slept for over a day”

His jaw dropped... a day?!?!? How is that possible?

“You’ve been asleep since yesterday morning” Brian added.

_And?_

“It’s five o’ clock at night”

Upon seeing Freddie’s jaw drop, Brian continued to explain.

“When we noticed that you had been asleep for too long, we thought something was wrong so I talked to your doctor while John and Roger took turns watching you”

“We explain everything that had been going on and he said that it’s all fine and normal for people to sleep for a long time after skipping two nights”

_How_ _did_ _you_ _know_ _I_ _didn’t_ _sleep?_ Freddie wrote

“Fred, you looked like a living corpse. Of course we knew” Roger added bluntly.

“But, I do have some good news” Brian continued.

Freddie noticed that they immediately looked a bit more energetic, happy even. This good news must be pretty important.

“The doctor said that since it’s been so long, he’s set up an appointment for you to take a look at your throat and, if everything looks okay,”

He paused for a moment

“If everything looks okay, you could get your trach out.”

Freddie perked up, eyes wide and smiling.

_So_ , _I_ _can_ _sing_ _again?_ he scribbled as fast as possible.

“Yes, Freddie that’s very possible”

If he could have, he would have been practically screaming with laughter. Freddie jumped and danced around, pure joy filling his body.

_When’s_ _my_ _appointment?_

”He managed to squeeze you in tomorrow morning”

_So_ , _I_ _could_ _be_ _talking_ _by_ _tomorrow_ _afternoon?_

“Yes, Freddie you could” Brian said with a smile, as if it truly just hit him that his friend could be taking again very soon.

Freddie was overwhelmed with emotion. He was so happy, he could scream from the rooftops if he had the ability.

Tomorrow, he could.

Tomorrow, he could laugh again.

Tomorrow, he could talk again.

Tomorrow, he could be himself again.

* * *

 

It was a good thing he slept for so long, because he didn’t get any sleep that night. To be fair, none of them did. They were filled with nerves. All any of them could think about was the fact that Freddie could speak again. He could call Mary as he did before, talk to his dear cat again (even though he always swore they were lying and couldn’t really hear him), and most of all, he could sing again. Maybe not immediately, but it was a step in the right direction.

So, before the sun rose that morning, the four were up and getting ready. Roger wasn’t thrilled that it was so early, but it was the best time for Freddie’s appointment because he couldn’t eat in case of surgery.

When the time time, the four of them piled into the car. Freddie was a ball of energy the whole ride to the hospital. He was constantly tapping his feet, tapping his fingers on his legs, or fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He was no doubt excited, but also slightly scared. There was a part of him that said he wasn’t healed enough and he wouldn’t get the surgery. A part of him that said even though he would be able to speak again, they couldn’t save his singing voice.

All of his fears were dashed during his appointment when his doctor told them that everything looked great.

_So_ _I_ _can_ _get_ _the_ _surgery_ _today?_ he wrote for the doctor, eager for an answer.

“As soon as this morning”

Freddie was so happy, he could’ve hugged that doctor right there. He was bubbling with excitement, completely unable to keep a smile off his face.

When it was time for the surgery just a couple hours later, his friends were more nervous than him. Freddie stayed calm while Brian fussed over him and John questioned the doctors to the enth degree. Roger stepped out, presumably for a cigarette which Brian would scold him for later.

Soon after, it was announced that it was time for them to take Freddie back, and he was as confident as could be. After seeing that his friends looked a bit scared, he wrote them one last note:

_Don’t_ _worry_ , _darlings_. _When_ _I_ _come_ _back_ , _I’ll_ _be_ _just_ _fit_ _as_ _a_ _fiddle_.

He gave them a smile, and was wheeled away

* * *

 

As Freddie was wheeled away and they were guided to a waiting room, it became a bit too real for their liking. Freddie had hardly left their sight for the past two months, and seeing him being taken into the unknown was scary. But, they knew he was in good hands, and he would be back soon.

They passed the time by chatting about little random things to keep each other from worrying too much. In reality, they weren’t in there for too long, but to them it felt like an eternity.

After a while, a doctor came into the waiting room.

“Let’s see...” she whispered as she flicked through a file in her hand.

“Roger, Brian, and John?”

They all immediately jumped to their feet, hearts racing.

“Yes, that’s us” John announced.

“Freddie’s doing very well, you can come see him now”

They three immediately hollered and cheered, at bit excessive in celebration but they didn’t care. Freddie had been in so much pain, both physical and mental. Now, this was a step in the right direction. Now, he had a chance at life again.

When they were led to his room, they could hardly contain their excitement. They were almost walking ahead of the nurse, not wasting a single second of time getting there. Then, when they came to his room, the three nearly tumbled over each other from attempting to squeeze through the doorway all at once.

Then there was Freddie, peacefully sleeping in his bed, blissfully unaware of the madness going on around him. The three immediately quieted down, not just because they didn’t want to disturb their friend, but also because of the memories the hospital brought back.

Last time he was in a hospital bed, he was dying.

Last time, he was connected to tubes and wires and such that kept him alive. His skin was pale and battered from the attack.

Here, he didn’t need machines to keep him alive. His skin was pink and healthy, the only signs of the attack being small scars here and there. Most of all, he didn’t need a tube to breathe.

The only sign of that was a little white bandage over the spot where it was removed.

He was breathing on his own for the first time in _two_ _months_

The three kept quiet in order not to wake him, but all gathered around where he slept. The room was completely silent. Not tense, not awkward, but peaceful.

Eventually, the three got tired of the silence so they chatted quietly, the loudest thing in the room being the rare beep of a machine.

Then, out of absolutely nowhere, there was a voice. A very tired, weak, and hoarse voice, barely louder than a whisper.

“Hey guys” the voice said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay Freddie’s talking again! Next two chapters will be a lot happier than usual, then we’ll get back into the heavier stuff. Also, this story is starting to come to a close (don’t worry i’m sad too) so things will become a lot lighter. Angst isn’t completely gone though, I still have a couple angsty scenes in my head. 
> 
> Anyway, I also wanted to thank everyone who has stood by me the whole time. This is the first fiction I haven’t abandoned, and I plan on writing many more. Thanks for being my lovely readers, and I hope you’ll read my future fics, too.
> 
> Also, please let me know if you want to see the darker storyline! It won’t be for everyone, but it’s good for me to get my ideas out. It’s almost like my therapy. Let me know in the comments!
> 
> Keep yourselves alive people <3


	17. Don’t You Hear My Call?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie speaks! Everything isn’t all happy, though...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVENT POSTED IN ALMOST A MONTH  
> M O N T H
> 
> I am SOOOOOO sorry about that! Finals have been going on at school and will be for like, another three weeks so I haven’t had the time or inspiration to write. Sorry if I made you think this was abandoned! I wouldn’t do that to you, I promise.
> 
> So, here’s another chapter! It’s a little short, but I just wanted to get something out there since it’s been so long. ALSO: I’m starting to work towards the ending... nooooooo! As much as I love this story, it must come to an end eventually... BUT I will still write and post the darker version if any of y’all are into that stuff
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

“Hey guys” the voice said.

The three looked at each other, all wondering who said it. Then, as if they could read each other’s minds, their faces changed to shock and the whipped around to face Freddie.

There he was, eyes peeking through droopy lids with a wild grin on his lips.

“Fred, was that you?” Brian asked in disbelief.

“Of course, dear. Who else would it be?”

Brian smiled, then started laughing with joy. The other two did too, then they all piled up on Freddie’s bed, showering him with hugs and smiles. Then, Freddie did something that he hadn’t done in a long time.

He _laughed_

He chuckled lightly at first, then it grew into laughing so hard he could barely breathe. He laughed and laughed, wiping tears from his eyes without a care in the world. Then, it changed into a short coughing spell, and he forced himself to settle down.

“Ouch” he croaked, holding a hand to his throat.

“You alright?” John asked with concern.

“Oh, I’m fine, Deaky, don’t worry”

Freddie would have to remember to be gentle with his voice, since it hadn’t been used in so long. Even though getting his voice back was a huge step in his recovery, he still wasn’t out of the woods. He had a great deal of damage dealt to his throat, and still ran the risk of permanent damage if he didn’t heed his doctor’s warnings.

When the doctor came in to check on him, he went ahead and told the four some news.

He started with the good, saying that Freddie had healed a lot better and faster than he expected, and that he could go home that day.

Then, he gave them the bad

The doctor said that even with the best care, Freddie may never have the same singing voice, if he could sing at all. 

The worst news of all was that he wouldn’t be cleared to sing for several more months.

Before they could ask any questions, the doctor was paged and had to leave them in the dark.

They sat in silence, all four trying to process what the doctor had just said.

Several more months... and even then he might not ever sound the same.

“This isn’t fair...” Roger stated, breaking the intense silence. The three could immediately tell that he was about to lose his temper.

“Okay, Rog, settle down-“ Brian said firmly, but was interrupted.

“No, Brian, I won’t settle down. You know why? Because it’s NOT _FUCKING_ FAIR!” he replied, shouting the last words.

“Roger, can you please have the courtesy not to shout in a hospital?”

He stood for a second, gritting his teeth to keep himself from replying. As much as he wanted to scream his frustrations, he knew Brian was right and it wasn’t worth getting kicked out of the hospital for being disruptive.

“Darlings, this isn’t worth fighting about. Everything will be alright” Freddie spoke up, keeping his sentences short to avoid strain on his throat.

He knew Roger was right. It wasn’t fair that he had done everything right, just to be told that it might have been pointless. Never singing again... he couldn’t imagine such a life. But, it wouldn’t just be the end of his career...

It would be the end of Queen

All of their work, _gone_. All the fans, _gone_. All of their dreams, _gone_.

What would he do besides music? Go back to art school? What would Roger do? No one could imagine him leaving his drums to become a dentist. What would Brian do? Leave his guitar for astrophysics?

And John?

Well, Freddie honestly didn’t know

When Freddie said that everything would be alright, he didn’t just say that to keep Roger and Brian from arguing.

He said that because he had to

Because if everything wasn’t alright, he would fall to pieces.

So, when he was discharged that night, he kept the fear to himself.

The ride home was quite chatty, as Freddie found himself unable to stop talking now that he had the ability. If anyone found it annoying (they did), no one said anything.

To their dismay, the chatter didn’t stop when they got home. Yes, it was a bit annoying that he wouldn’t stop talking. But, when they remembered that he hadn’t spoken a word in two months, they no longer cared. Freddie was happy, and the three couldn’t complain about that.

Freddie had something to do when he got home. In fact, he had a surprise for Mary. She didn’t know that he had gotten his voice back, so Freddie decided to surprise her with a phone call.

He dialed the phone and it rang a couple times, but she picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hello, my darling” he replied, sounding rather hoarse but there was still excitement in his voice.

“Freddie? Is that you?”

“Of _course_ it’s me!”

Mary could be heard cheering and crying with joy on the other end of the line. Freddie chatted with her for some time on the phone, but after a while it was clear he was getting tired. In the moment, he seemed to have forgotten that he just had surgery and needed to be resting. He especially needed to be resting his voice. So, when Mary heard his voice grow raspy and tired, she tried to hang up. Freddie, however, wasn’t having it.

“Darling, please don’t go yet!”

“Freddie, you’re tired. You need rest”

“Oh, I’ve done enough resting to last a lifetime. Just a few more minutes, alright?”

“No, Freddie, it’s nearly eleven o’clock! You need to rest your voice”

With a sigh, he replied,

“Oh, alright. How about tomorrow morning? Maybe I could take you to a café for breakfast”

“Freddie, that would be lovely! Now, please go and get some sleep. Don’t make me come over there” she said with a chuckle.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then. I love you, darling!”

“I love you too, Freddie”

With that, he hung up

He lingered by the phone for a moment

Eventually, he made his way into the living room where his flatmates were, and sunk into the couch beside John. It seemed that was the moment Freddie’s exhaustion hit him: his limbs felt heavy and his eyelids struggled to stay open.

He also realized just how bad his throat was hurting

His eyebrows knit together as he scratched at the bandage on his throat, and that’s what told the others that he wasn’t feeling well.

“You alright, Fred?” Brian asked, worry in his voice.

“I’m alright, just a bit tired” he replied weakly, his raspy voice barely above a whisper.

“Freddie, you need to get some sleep”

“I’m fine, Bri-“

“Nope, you’re going to bed right now” Brian said matter-of-factly, and helped a very tired Freddie to his feet. As much as he wanted to argue, Freddie really was exhausted and didn’t have the energy to fight Brian anymore.

So, Brian helped him to his feet and Freddie shuffled over to his room, slurring out a very quiet “G’night” before he shut the door.

Freddie was asleep as soon as his head hit his pillow.

* * *

 

The others were absolutely elated to hear Freddie’s voice again. They could hear his sweet conversations with Mary. They thought of excitement in his voice when he talked about a new song or tune he thought of, something they hadn’t heard in quite some time. And even though Freddie’s voice was very weak and hoarse, they knew it would get better with time.

But as they would come to realize that night, having Freddie’s voice back wasn’t all good:

For now, they had to hear him scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *maniacal laughter*


	18. This is the end...

My worst fear came to light today

My writing app glitched and deleted everything I had written. Sadly, this includes this fanfic, which I never wrote on paper.

Guys, every single thing I have ever written in the past EIGHT MONTHS is wiped. This includes three other fics I’ve been working on, short stories, character outlines, writing prompts, quotes, drabbles, even my dream journal.

It hurts my heart so, so much to say this, but I cant continue this fic. I have no way of accessing any of it and my outlines for it, and since it’s been a while since I’ve written any of it, I can’t remember my ideas.

I will be writing another Queen fic to make up for it

All I can say now is thank you. Thanks for reading, commenting, and helping me in ways I can’t describe even when you didn’t realize it. Thank you for staying with me on this journey that came to an end way too soon.

 

Your writer (and friend),

Allison

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any encouraging messages would be greatly appreciated, this is a really hard time for me


End file.
